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IMTSMSIIKI)  BY  eEABOPif  *  Co.,233  BROADWAY. 
(  Opposite-  llif  i'iii-k.) 

O  RICH.   N"  12.  RED -I.  I  OK  SQUARE 


TO 


PHILIP  HONE,  Esq 


THIS  WORK 


IS,   BY   PERMISSION,  RESPECTFULLY 


DEDICATED, 


BY  THE  PUBLISHERS. 


INTRODUCTION. 


The  Proprietors  of  "Views  in  New  York  and  its  Environs,"  do  not  deem  anji 
apology  necessary  for  offering  them,  at  this  time,  to  the  public. 

There  are  many  obvious  reasons  why  Literature  and  the  Arts  in  the  United 
States,  have  not  equalled  those  of  older  countries :  but  the  restraints  upon  their 
progress  are  annually  becoming  less  important.  The  excuses,  behind  which  we 
have  so  long  sheltered  ourselves  from  the  observations  of  foreign  critics,  will  soon  be 
inapplicable  to  our  situation:  we  shall  not  always  be  an  infant  country;  and, 
if  we  ever  intend  to  develope  our  materials  and  talents,  instead  of  depending  exclu- 
sively upon  those  of  our  trans-atlantic  brethren,  this  seems  to  be  the  proper  period. 
Commerce  has  enriched  the  land — education  is  broadly  diffused,  and  the  vigorous 
hardihood  and  simplicity  of  a  youthful  nation  are  already  giving  place  to  the  refine- 
ments of  wealth  and  luxury.  The  capital  which  has  hitherto  rushed  impetuously 
through  the  channels  of  business,  will  now  flow  in  pursuit  of  elegance  and  pleasure, 
and  may  be  easily  directed  to  the  cultivation  of  the  Arts  and  Sciences.  There  is 
nothing  to  prevent  our  constructing  a  National  Literature,  under  the  influence  of 
which  the  Arts  will  flourish  most  successfully,  but  a  tame  admission,  not  only  of 
present  inferiority,  but  of  an  incapacity  to  improve. 


iv. 


The  enlightened  policy  of  our  government  leads  us  far  from  the  gory  track  of 
war.  Instead  of  courting  the  dangerous  triumphs  of  foreign  conquests,  it  teaches  us 
the  advantage  of  cultivating  our  own  internal  resources.  We  enjoy  the  most  friend- 
ly relations  with  every  people  on  the  globe.  Our  ancient  battle-fields,  overgrown 
with  the  golden  harvest,  are  the  undisturbed  possessions  of  the  husbandman.  The 
cannon's  rude  throat  is  silent  among  us,  or  only  speaks  in  token  of  our  happiness. 
Instead  of  soldiers  and  heroes,  we  have  poets,  orators  and  artists,  with  leisure  to 
pursue  the  occupations  of  peace. 

Under  these  circumstances,  the  patronage  of  a  discriminating  public  may  be 
confidently  anticipated  for  works  similar  to  that  which  at  present  engages  our  at- 
tention. 

Actuated  by  a  hope  that  the  subject  is  happily  chosen,  the  proprietors  flatter 
themselves  that  their  endeavors  to  render  it  interesting,  will  not  be  altogether  un- 
successful. 


NEW  YORK,  JUNE,  1831. 


NEW  YORK  AND  ITS  ENVIRONS. 


CHAPTER    I  . 

"Trade  anil  joy,  in  every  busy  street, 
Mingling  are  heard :   Even  drudgery  himself, 
As  at  the  car  he  sweats,  or  dusky  hews 
The  palace-stone,  looks  gay.   Thy  crowded  port?, 
Where  rising  masts  an  endless  prospect  yield, 
With  labor  burn,  and  echo  to  the  shouts  ' 
Of  hurried  sailor,  as  he  hearty  waves 
His  last  adieu,  and  loosening  every  sheet, 
Resigns  the  spreading  vessel  to  the  wind." 

[  Thomson. 


When  the  renowned  Captain  Hcndrick  Hudson,  in  the  year  1609,  sailed  through 
the  Narrows,  and  approached  the  Island  of  Manahatta,  he  beheld  a  solitude  almost 
as  deep  as  that  of  the  primeval  ages.  His  vessel  penetrated  into  the  broad  Bay — 
breaking  in  upon  the  wide  loneliness  of  nature,  and  heralding  a  mighty  people 
into  the  recesses  of  a  new  world.  It  was  in  the  full  bloom  of  summer.  The  shores 
were  covered  with  forests;  massive  grape  vines  were  wreathed  like  serpents 
among  the  branches  of  the  aged  trees,  and  their  purple  fruit  hung  clustering  in  the 
sun.  The  song  of  innumerable  birds  came  from  the  land,  and  along  the  wave  glid- 
ed the  rapid  Indian  canoe.  The  island  itself,  now  occupied  by  the  city  represented 
in  the  first  engraving,'  was  of  a  wild  and  rough  aspect.  The  waves  dashed 
over  a  broken  and  rocky  beach,  which  was  indented  with  deep  inlets,  while  the 
interior  was  covered  with  swamps,  hills,  ponds,  and  thick  forests.  What  emotions 
would  rise  in  the  bosom  of  the  worthy  navigator,  could  he  revisit  the  scene  of 
his  early  adventure ! 


There  are  few  spectacles  at  once  more  grateful  and  more  magnificent  to  the 
weary  wanderer  over  the  ocean,  than  that  which  rises  up  before  him,  like  a 


6 


lovely  dream,  as  he  passes  the  Narrows,  and  is  wafted  by  fair  breezes  towards 
the  city  of  New  York.  The  green  shores  of  Long  and  Staten  Islands,  within 
less  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  each  other,  slope  down  to  the  water's  edge,  and 
form  the  gates  of  the  harbor.  When  "  radiant  summer  opens  all  her  pride,"  they 
are  clothed  with  the  luxuriant  harvest,  and  dotted  with  dwellings  of  peace  and 
plenty.  A  vast  city  with  its  bristling  forest  of  masts  and  spires,  rises  suddenly  in 
the  distance,  sending  forth  the  hum  of  more  than  two  hundred  thousand  in- 
habitants. He  inhales  the  mingled  perfumes  which  the  wind  bears  from  wood 
and  field,  from  vallies  of  clover,  and  gardens  of  flowers.  Immense  steamboats, 
superior  to  any  other  in  the  world,  plough  the  waters  around  him,  and  shape 
their  steady  course  in  different  directions  ;  and  ships,  with  white  sails  spread,  are 
returning,  storm-beaten,  from  their  perilous  voyages,  or  hurrying  forth,  through 
the  narrow  outlet,  to  distant  quarters  of  the  globe.  Forts  command  the  prominent 
stations,  and  vessels  of  war,  like  castles,  are  resting  on  the  wave. 

Perhaps  no  situation  could  be  chosen  for  a  more  advantageous  survey  of  the 
city,  with  its  surrounding  scenery,  than  that  part  of  the  Bay  adjoining  Governor's 
Island,  and  near  the  fort,  a  portion  of  which  appears  on  the  extreme  left  of  the 
picture,  and  whence  the  present  view  was  taken. 

The  opening  discernible  on  the  right,  is  the  .  passage  termed  the  East  River, 
leading  from  the  Bay  into  the  Sound,  between  Long  and  York  Islands,  and  thence 
along  the  shores  of  Connecticut  and  Rhode  Island,  into  the  Atlantic.  The  eye 
can  almost  pierce  to  that  point  of  the  strait  entitled  Hurl  Gate,  but,  by  the  lov- 
ers of  the  marvellous,  dignified  with  an  appellation  which  would  seem  to  conduct 
the  traveller  into  a  region  of  a  very  different  description  from  the  pleasant  hills 
and  orchards,  the  costly  dwellings,  and  the  humble  but  bright  looking  cottages, 
that  make  the  banks  of  this  stream  a  succession  of  charming  pictures. 

The  small  promontory  jutting  out  on  the  eastern  side,  represents  that  part  of 
Long  Island  occupied  by  the  village  of  Brooklyn  and  the  Navy  Yard. 

On  the  left,  the  eye  seeks  to  explore  the  windings  of  the  Hudson  or  North 
River.  In  many  respects  this  stream  may  be  considered  one  of  the  most  impor- 
tant in  the  world.  It  is  effected  by  the  tide  more  than  a  hundred  and  sixty 
miles  towards  its  source.    Its  steamboat  navigation  is  unobstructed,  and  it  presents 


1 


facilities  for  commerce  of  an  extraordinary  and  tempting  nature.  The  magnificent 
canal,  which  strikes  it  at  Albany,  connects  the  city  of  New  York  with  Lake 
Erie,  and  thence  with  the  interior  and  most  western  portion  of  the  Union.  This 
stupendous  work,  which  directly  augments  the  prosperity  of  more  than  two  mil- 
lions of  people,  is  but  a  single  branch  in  the  vast  plan  of  internal  improve- 
ment, of  which  Dewitt  Clinton  was  the  most  influential  promoter,  and  which 
equally  associates  his  name  with  the  glory  of  the  state,  and  the  increasing  im- 
portance of  the  city. 

We  cannot  regard  the  point  where  this  lordly  river  pours  its  silver  waters 
into  the  bay,  without  a  strong  desire  to  follow  our  imagination  through  the  pic- 
turesque and  romantic  scenery  which  decorates  its  winding  banks,  and  which  is 
inteiwoven  with  some  of  the  most  interesting  incidents  of  the  American  revolu- 
tion, but  we  must  be  content  to  call  the  attention  of  the  reader  to  that  pleasant 
summer  resort  in  the  State  of  New  Jersey,  called  Hoboken,  which  is  dimly  vis- 
ible in  the  distance  over  the  fort  adjoining  the  city.  To  this  verdant  and  re- 
freshing spot  the  citizens  flock  in  throngs,  to  escape  the  dust,  noise,  and  heat 
of  the  town,  during  the  prevalence  of  the  summer  sun,  and  here  to  enjoy  the 
social  party,  or  when 


"the  soft  hour 
Of  walking  comes:  for  him  who  lonely  loves 
To  seek  the  distant  hills,  and  there  converse 
With  nature ;" 


the  fancy  of  the  poet,  painter,  or  lover,  could  scarcely  desire  a  scene  more  beautiful. 

At  all  times  the  view  of  the  metropolis  of  the  State  is  imposing;  but 
should  the  stranger  approach  it  at  the  close  of  a  pleasant  summer  day,  ho 
would  find  the  scene  yet  more  enchanting.  At  this  period  the  bustle  of  business 
is  superseded  by  the  voice  of  pleasure.  As  he  draws  near  the  Battery,  he  per- 
ceives that  the  fort  has  changed  its  martial  character,  and  been  metamorphosed 
into  a  garden  and  pleasant  promenade.  The  stillness  of  the  evening  is  sometimes 
broken  by  the  sound  of  the  rushing  rocket,  as  it  darts  into  the  spangled  heaven, 
illuminating  the  scene  with  a  glare  of  temporary  radiance,  and  sometimes  by  bursts 
of  music,  softened  by  the  distance,  as  it  floats  over  the  placid  water.  Now  you 
may  hear  the  dram  from  Governor's  Island,  and  now  the  song  of  the  sailor 
2 


8 


from  the  distant  ship,  which  is  preparing  again  to  encounter  the  perils  of  the 
deep;  while  the  regular  dash  of  the  oar,  as  some  occasional  boat  glides  by,  add* 
to  the  charm  of  the  music,  and  increases  the  interest  of  the  scene. 

At  such  a  time,  while  the  eye  dwells  upon  the  mass  of  buildings  which  com- 
pose the  thriving  city  of  Manahatta,  we  cannot  forego  the  pride  and  pleasure  of 
rejoicing  that  the  thousands  within  her  limits  have  no  great  national  cause  for 
mourning.  They  are  convulsed  with  no  awful  revolution — they  cringe  beneath  no 
despotic  power — they  dread  no  foreign  foe.  Freedom,  peace,  and  plenty  are  m 
their  dwellings,  and  their  destiny  is  as  unclouded  as  the  glorious  vault  of  heaven 
which  stretches  with  all  its  stars  above  their  heads. 

In  the  second  plate,  the  spectator  is  supposed  to  stand  near  the  south-east 
corner  of  the  Park,  with  his  face  towards  the  Battery.  From  this  position,  two 
prominent  buildings  meet  his  view.  The  large  and  showy  edifice  on  the  left, 
recently  erected  by  Mr.  F.  Olmstead,  is  occupied,  as  a  Museum,  by  Mr.  Scudder. 
It  forms  a  fair  specimen  of  that  system  of  improvement  which,  within  a  few 
years,  has  to  so  great  an  extent  changed  the  aspect  of  the  city.  Groups  of 
dilapidated  wooden  hovels,  intersected  by  dark,  narrow,  and  filthy  lanes,  the 
abode  of  squalid  misery,  are  continually  passing  away,  and  giving  place  to  broad- 
ened streets  and  lofty  mansions.  This  appearance  of  cheerfulness,  splendor,  and 
beauty,  where  the  eye  has  been  accustomed  to  gloom  and  decay,  strikes  the 
mind  like  the  rapidity  of  dramatic  scenery,  where  a  robber's  cave,  or  a  wintry 
prospect,  is  suddenly  metamorphosed  into  a  kingly  palace,  or  a  garden  of  bloom- 
ing flowers.  The  present  arsenal,  in  Elm  Street,  once  stood  on  an  island,  and 
there  are  persons  at  present  in  the  city  who  remember  to  have  seen  a  fiekl  of 
wheat  waving  in  the  breeze,  on  the  spot  where  now  rise  the  graceful  co- 
lumns and  lofty  spire  of  St.  Paul's  Chapel,  in  the  right  of  the  picture.  This 
fine  structure  is  esteemed  the  best  specimen  of  architecture  in  the  city.  It 
was  first  opened  for  divine  service  on  the  30th  of  October,  1776,  and  has  always 
belonged  to  the  parish  of  Trinity  Church.  It  is  principally  constructed  of  gray 
stone,  and  is  of  the  Corinthian  order.  Beneath  the  portico  is  a  monument, 
erected  to  the  memory  of  General  Montgomery,  who  was  killed  at  the  storming  of 
Quebec ;  and  in  the  large  cemetery  in  the  rear  is  one  to  the  memory  of  the  French 
General,  Rochfontaine,  who  fought  in  the  service  of  the  United  States  during  the 
revolution,  and  died  in  this  city  in  1814.    The  celebrated  tragedian,  George  F. 


9 


Cooke,  also  here  reposes  in  death,  within  a  short  distance  of  the  spot  where  his 
brilliant  bursts  of  genius  were  greeted  with  the  acclamations  of  thousands,  many 
of  whom,  perchance,  lie  by  his  side. 

Passing  down  Broadway,  we  approach  the  scene  represented  in  plate  third. 
Here  we  find  one  of  the  few  green  spots  which  the  negligence  of  our  ancestors  has 
left  for  the  health  and  ornament  of  our  metropolis.  This  beautiful  circle  of  verdure 
is  ihe  Bowling  Green,  which  derives  its  name  from  having  been  originally  appropri- 
ated, as  a  place  of  amusement,  to  the  game  of  "bowles."  It  is  celebrated  as  the 
spat  selected  by  the  whigs  for  the  scene  of  one  of  their  most  patriotic  achievements. 
On  the  sixth  of  November,  in  the  year  1765,  the  day  on  which  the  notorious 
Stamp  Act  was  to  go  into  operation,  the  people  assembled,  took  out  the  gover- 
nor's carriage,  dragged  it  to  the  common,  (the  present  Park)  and  there,  upon  a 
gallants,  suspended  his  effigy,  having  in  his  right  hand  a  stamped  bill  of  lading,  and 
in  his  left  the  figure  of  a  personage  not  to  be  "named  to  ears  polite."  After  it  had 
hiing  for  some  time,  they  bore  it,  with  the  gallows  and  carriage,  to  the  Bowling 
Green,  where  they  burnt  the  whole,  amidst  the  general  applause  of  a  very  large 
audience.  This  enclosure  was  originally  designed  to  protect  an  equestrian  figure  of 
George  III.,  which,  however,  was  prostrated  soon  after  the  declaration  of  indepen- 
dence. The  pediment  has  been  much  more  recently  removed.  It  is  to  be  hoped 
that  the  spot  may  be  ornamented  with  a  statue  of  Washington.  Such  a  design 
has  for  a  long  time  been  a  topic  of  conversation. 

Broadway,  which  commences  at  this  point,  extends  nearly  three  miles  in  a 
northerly  direction.  It  is  slightly  undulated,  and,  except  the  graceful  sweep  of 
buildings  by  the  Bowling  Green,  forms  a  straight  line  to  Thirteenth  Street. 

The  last  engraving  to  which  we  shall  solicit  the  attention  of  the  reader  in  this 
number,  is  a  very  correct  delineation  of  the  American  Hotel,  in  Broadway,  on  the 
corner  of  Barclay  Street.  This  commanding  establishment  faces  the  Park,  and  is  in 
the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  Theatre.  On  the  same  side  of  the  street  are  dis- 
covered the  elegant  store  of  Messrs.  Peabody  &  Co.,  the  proprietors  of  the  present 
work,  and  adjoining,  the  mansion  of  Philip  Hone,  Esq.,  to  whom  it  is  dedicated. 

In  closing  our  brief  and  cursory  survey,  we  are  again  impressed  with  surprise  at 
the  revolutions  which  have  taken  place  in  the  city  within  the  memory  of  many  yet 


10 


alive.  We  continually  meet  the  venerable  relics  of  the  last  generation,  who  recount 
strange  things  of  the  old  town  of  Manahatta.  Such  an  one,  as  he  totters  along, 
with  silver  head  and  feeble  6teps,  through  the  scenes  of  splendor  which  have  arisen 
so  unexpectedly  around  him,  is  full  of  curious  but  mournful  recollections.  He 
lingers  over  the  past  with  mingled  pride,  regret,  and  wonder.  He  speaks  of  canals; 
swamps,  and  ponds  long  since  filled  up;  of  lanes  and  commons  which  live  only  in 
his  remembrance ;  of  hills  now  levelled  ;  forests  cut  down ;  and  bridges  forgotten, 
with  the  streams  which  they  crossed.  Of  a  thousand  of  the  gay  and  the  beau- 
tiful he  will  point  out  the  graves — he  will  tell  you  that  even  the  magnificence 
which  has  thus  grown  up  under  his  eye,  only  makes  him  feel  like  a  stranger; 
all  his  old  haunts  are  broken  up,  his  friends  have  passed  away,  and  he  murmurs 
with  the  poet,  "Earth  encloses  them.  The  graes  grows  between  the  etones  of  their 
tomb.  I  often  sit  in  the  mournful  shade.  The  wind-sighs  through  the  trees.  Their 
memory  rushes  on  my  mind." 


CHAPTER  It. 

"  And  as  he  considered  it  more  attentively,  he  fancied  that  the  great  volume  of  smoke  assumed  a 

variety  of  forms,  where  in  dim  obscurity  he  saw  shadowed  out  palaces,  and  domes,  and  lofty  spires,  all  of 
which  lasted  but  a  moment,  until  the*' whole  rolled  off,  and  nothing  but  the  green  woods  were  left.  And 
when  St.  Nicholas  had  smoked  his  pipe,  he  twisted  it  in  his  hat-band,  and  laying  his  finger  beside  hi3  nose, 
gave  the  astonished  Van  Kortlandt  a  very  significant  look ;  then,  mounting  his  wagon,  he  returned  over  the  tree 
tops  and  disappeared.  -   "         *         *         *         "         *         *         •         *  '  *    .  • 

"And  Van  Kortlandt  awoke  from  his  sleep  greatly  instructed,  and  related  his  dream,  and  interpreted  it, 
that  it  was  the  will  of  St.  Nicholas  that  they  should  settle  down  and  build  the  city  here." 

[Diedrich  Knickerbocker. 


It  is  both  curious  and  amusing  to  trace  the  progress  of  the  city  of  New 
York  from  its  early  insignificance  to  its  present  importance  and  character.  In  sixteen 
hundred  and  fifty  three  it  was  secured  against  sudden  attacks  of  the  aborigines  by 
"a  great  wall  of  earth  and  stones,  running  between  Wall  and  Pine  Streets,  from  the 
North  to  the  East  River."  A  gate,  near  the  present  corner  of  Wall  and  Pearl 
Streets,  was  called  the  Water  Gate,  and  another,  in  Broadway,  the  Land  Gate. 

The  striking  changes  in  its  physical  appearance  have  been  accompanied  by 
revolutions,  equally  remarkable,  in  the  spirit  of  the  laws,  and  the  manners  of  the 
people.  On  the  sixth  of  June,  of  the  same  year,  the  Directors  of  the  West  India 
Company,  at  Amsterdam,  "granted  liberty  to  particular  merchants  to  send  two  or 
three  ships  to  the  Coast  of  Africa,  to  purchase  slaves,  and  to  promote  the  settle- 
ment of  the  country  by  importing  the  same." 

In  sixteen  hundred  and  seventy  five  we  find  the  "watch  set  at  eight  o'clock 
every  evening,  after  ringing  of  the  bell,  and  the  city  gates  locked  up  at  nine, 
and  opened  again  at  daylight.  No  cursing  and  swearing  permitted."  About  this 
time  the  Common  Council  refused  the  petition  of  the  Jews  for  liberty  to  exer- 
cise their  religion. 
3 


12 


The  ignorance  of  our  ancestors  respecting  the  destiny  of  the  city  is  every 
where  visible  in  the  careless  irregularity  with  which  they  suffered  it  to  grow  up 
around  them,  and  the  frequent  sales  and  grants  of  lands  which  they  permitted 
upon  the  most  trifling  considerations.  We  find,  for  example,  in  the  records  of 
the  Common  Council,  a  vote  that  "  all  the  lands  in  front  of  the  Vly,  from  the 
Block  House  to  Mr.  Beekman's,  should  be  sold:  that  from  the  Block  House  to  the 
Green  Lane,  or  Maagde  Padtje,  (now  Maiden  Lane,)  be  valued  at  five  and 
twenty  shillings  per  foot."  The  word  Vly  is  an  abbreviation  of  Valey,  or  Valley, 
and  was  in  use  among  the  Dutch  to  denote  a  Marsh,  or  Salt  Meadow.  The 
Vly  or  Fly  Market,  destroyed  on  the  building  of  "the  Fulton  Market,  was  sur- 
rounded by  a  Salt  Meadow,  and  distinguished  as  the  Market  in  the  Marsh. 

In  seventeen  hundred  and  thirty  four  the  Battery  was  ordered  to  be  "kept 
clear  of  houses  from  Whitehall  to  Eeld's  corner,"  now  Marketfield  Street. 

It  was  about  this  period  that  cartmen  were  forbidden  to  ride  on  their  carts, 
and  enjoined  to  behave  civilly  to  all;  the  Governor  was  publicly  congratulated 
upon  his  return  in  safety  from  a  voyage  to  Albany ;  the  whole  of  Staten  Island 
was  sold  to  the  Dutch  by  the  Indians  for  ten  shirts,  thirty  pair  of  stockings,  ten 
guns,  thirty  bars  of  lead,  thirty  pounds  of  powder,  some  hoes,  kettles,  knives,  and 
awls ;  and  to  a  quere  in  council,  "  whether  or  not  attornies  are  useful  to  plead 
in  courts'?"  it  was  dryly  answered,  "it  is  thought  not!"  "In  those  primitive 
days,"  says  a  grave  and  accurate  historian,  "  the  busy  hum  of  multitudes,  the 
shouts  of  revelrie,  the  rumbling  equipages  of  fashion,  and  all  the  spirit-grieving 
sounds  of  brawling  commerce,  were  unknown  in  New  Amsterdam.  The  grass 
grew  quietly  in  the  high  ways — the  bleating  sheep  and  frolicsome  calves  sport- 
ed about  the  verdant  ridge,  where  the  Broadway  lounger  takes  his  morning 
stroll — the  cunning  fox,  or  ravenous  wolf  skulked  in  the  woods,  where  now  are 
to  be  seen  the  dens  of  Gomez,  and  his  righteous  fraternity  of  money-brokers} 
and  flocks  of  vociferous  geese  cackled  about  the  field,  where,  at  present,  the  great 
Tammany  Wigwam,  and  the  patriotic  tavern  of  Martling,  echo  with  the  wrang- 
lings  of  the  mob." 

Notwithstanding  this  pleasant  picture  of  rural  simplicity,  the  city  wa3  so  far 
advanced  in  wealth  and  population  in  the  year  sixteen  hundred  and  forty  four, 
as  to  feel  the  necessity  of  a  public  edifice,  in  which  the  citizens  might  hold 


13 


their  courts  and  public  meetings.  Accordingly,  in  that  year,  under  the  reign  of 
Governor  Kiefft,  the  first  City  Hall,  Stadt-Huys,  or  Tavern,  was  erected  on  the 
corner  of  Pearl  Street  and  Coenties  Slip,  *on  the  ground  now  occupied  by  the 
fine  buildings  of  the  Brinkerhoffs.  It  was  constructed  of  stone,  three  stories  high, 
at  the  expense  of  the  West  India  Company,  and  termed  the  "  Company's  Ta- 
vern." Strangers  who  on  arriving  in  the  city  were  accustomed  to  be  received  in 
the  Governor's  house,  here  found  a  more  suitable  abode.  Having  grown  unfit 
for  further  use,  after  the  expiration  of  nearly  sixty  years,  it  was  "sold  by  public 
outcry"  to  John  Rodman,  merchant,  for  nine  hundred  and  twenty  pounds  ster- 
ling, in  the  year  sixteen  hundred  and  ninety  nine.  In  the  vaults  and  cellars  of 
the  buildings  of  the  Brinkerhoffs,  its  ruins  may  yet  be  easily  traced. 

The  city  then  proceeded  with  all  speed  to  erect  a  new  Hall,  "at  the  end 
of  one  of  the  principal  streets,"  about  the  year  seventeen  hundred.  This  second 
edifice  was  situated  on  the  corner  of  Nassau  and  Wall  Streets,  where  the  Cus- 
tom House  now  stands.  It  cost  eleven  hundred  and  fifty  one  pounds,  eighteen 
shillings  and  threepence,  and  is  represented  as  "  a  modest,  plain,  substantial 
building."  A  spacious  portico,  resting  on  arches,  with  arcades  underneath,  was 
added  to  the  new  hall,  in  the  second  story  of  which,  and  facing  Broad  Street, 
General  Washington  was  inaugurated  first  President  of  the  United  States. 

On  the  twenty  sixth  of  September,  in  the  year  eighteen  hundred  and  three, 
and  during  the  mayoralty  of  Edward  Livingston,  Esq.,  was  laid  the  foundation-stone 
of  the  third  City  Hall,  represented  in  the  first  engraving.  It  was  finished  in  eighteen 
hundred  and  twelve,  at  an  expense  of  half  a  million  of.  dollars.  This  splendid  struc- 
ture, situated  in  the  enclosure  called  the  Park,  and  on  elevated  ground,  is  extremely 
ornamental  to  the  city,  of  which  it  is  the  principal  building,  and  one  of  the  hand- 
somest of  its  size  in  the  United  States.  It  is  of  a  square  form,  two  stories  high,  be- 
sides a  basement  story.  Its  length  is  two  hundred  and  sixteen,  its  breadth  one  hundred 
and  five,  and  its  height,  including  the  attic,  sixty  five  feet.  The  material  of  the  front 
and  both  ends,  above  the  basement  story,  is  native  white  marble,  while  that  of  the  lower 
parts,  and  the  whole  of  the  rear,  from  an  anomalous  taste  in  architecture,  is  brown 
freestone.  The  roof  is  covered  with  copper  and  surrounded  with  a  ballustrade  of 
marble.  The  cupola,  on  the  summit  of  which  stands  a  collossal  figure  of  Justice, 
has  been  recently  elevated,  to  make  room  for  a  clock  of  large  dimensions,  which,  by 
means  of  a  transparent  illuminated  dial,  is  intended  to  be  useful  by  night  as  well 


14 


as  by  day.  It  also  contains  a  bell  weighing  upwards  of  six  thousand  pounds. 
The  first  story,  including  the  portico,  is  of  the  Ionic,  the  second  of  the  Corinthian, 
the  attic  of  the  Fancy,  and  the  cupftla  of  the  Composite  orders.  By  a  flight  of 
twelve  marble  steps,  and  beneath  a  portico  supported  by  sixteen  columns  of  the  same 
material,  you  are  conducted  through  the  principal  entrance  into  the  lobby,  the  roof 
of  which  rests  on  twenty  square  piers  of  marble.  Besides  a  stair  case  in  each 
end,  which  leads  from  the  first  to  the  second  story,  there  is  one,  of  the  geome- 
trical construction,  ascending  towards  a  circular  gallery,  railed* in,  and  floored  with 
marble.  Ten  marble  columns  rise  to  the  ceiling,  which  here  displays  a  lofty  and 
highly  decorated  dome,  from  the  top  of  which  the  light  falls  upon  the  interior, 
through  an  horizontal,  circular  window.  Another  gallery  runs  in  the  centre  from  one 
end  to  the  other.  In  the  first  story,  apartments  are  allotted  to  the  first  Judge,  Re- 
corder, Mayor,  Clerks  to  the  Common  Council,  County  Clerk,  Street  Commissioner, 
Sheriff,  Register,  Clerk  of  the  Supreme  Court,  to  Committees,  and  the  housekeeper. 
In  the  second  story,  are  the  Common  Council  Rooms,  the  Governor's  Room,  Comp- 
troller's Office,  Circuit  Court,  Superior  Court,  Supreme  Court,  and  United  States' 
Circuit  and  District  Courts. 

Concerning  the  various  offices  and  courts,  however,  which  have  been,  for  a  long 
period,  located  in  this  edifice,  it  may  be  necessary  to  observe  that  several  new 
arrangements  are  in  contemplation.  The  jail  which,  situated  but  a  few  yards  from 
the  eastern  wing  of  the  Hall,  has,  until  within  a  few  weeks,  greatly  counteracted 
the  beauty  of  this  view  by  its  gloomy  and  unprepossessing  exterior,  is  undergoing  a 
transformation,  and  will  soon  be  converted  into  a  structure  of  more  than  ordinary 
elegance. 

The  Governor's  Room  leads  out  upon  the  second  story  of  the  front  portico,  and 
commands  an  agreeable  view  of  one  of  the  most  busy  and  fashionable  parts  of  the 
city.  It  is  hung  with  paintings  of  eminent  statesmen  and  soldiers,  by  Inman,  Jarvis, 
Morse,  and  other  American  artists. 

The  Common  Council  Room  measures  forty  two  by  thirty  feet.  It  is  furnished 
with  taste,  and  contains,  as  the  seat  of  the  Mayor,  the  chair  used  by  General 
Washington,  when  he  presided  at  the  first  congress  held  at  this  city.  Here,  also, 
are  full-length  portraits  of  several  men,  celebrated  in  the  history  of  the  nation.  They 
are  well  executed  by  Colonel  Trumbull.    The  principal  apartments  in  the  basement 


15 


story  were,  until  lately,  the  Marine  and  Justices'  Court,  and  the  Police  Office. 
The  latter  is  opened  by  sunrise  every  morning,  except  Sunday,  to  take  cognizance 
of  offences  committed  against  the  peace.  The  Keeper  of  the  Hall,  with  his  family, 
resides  in  the  building.  It  is  his  duty  to  keep  it  clean,  and  in  good  order,  and 
after  three  o'clock,  p.  M.,  on  every  day,  except  Sundays,  a  person  is  ready,  for  a 
trifling  gratuity,  to  attend  company  through  the  rooms,  and  to  ascend  into  the 
cupola,  which  affords  a  fine  panoramic  view  of  the  city  and  harbor,  with  the 
environs. 

The  second  plate  presents  a  view  of  the  Navy  Yard,  taken  from  the  wreck  of 
the  Steam  Frigate,  destroyed,  about  a  year  ago,  by  the  explosion  of  her  powder 
magazine,  and  with  the  loss  of  many  lives.  This  awful  calamity  is  too  fresh  in  the 
memory  of  our  fellow  citizens  to  require  any  detailed  account.  One  of  the  most 
striking  incidents  connected  with  it  was  the  gallant  behaviour  of  Mr.  Joseph  Eck- 
fbrdj '  of  the  navy,  and  son  of  Henry  Eckford,  Esq.  His  cool  and  even  cheerful 
patience  during  the  protracted  attempts  to  rescue  him  from  an  agonizing  situation 
were  regarded  with  painful  interest.  The  lines  of  Hallcck  are  brought  to  mind 
on  viewing  the  wreck  of  the  Fulton : 

"She  haa  borne  in  days  departed 
Warm  hearts  upon  her  deck — 
Those  hearts,  like  her,  are  mouldering  now." 

The  Navy  Yard  itself  is  situated  at  Brooklyn,  Long  Island,  or  Nassau  Island, 
immediately  opposite  the  city.  Steamboats  continually  ply  across  the  East  River, 
from  various  points,  and  at  intervals  of  only  a  few  minutes,  by  which  the  commu- 
nication between  the  two  islands  is  rendered  easy,  cheap,  and  rap1'1 

The  Wallaboght,  or  Wallabout  Bay,  on  which  the  Navy  Yard  is  located,  takes 
its  name  from  the  Dutch  words  Waallen,  Walloons,  and  Bog-ht,  Cove;  and  was 
derived  from  the  Walloons,  or  Dutch  Protestants,  of  French  extraction,  who  first 
settled  there,  and  whose  names  and  descendants  still  remain.  They  emigrated  from 
the  banks  of  the  River  Waal  in  the  Netherlands, 

In  sixteen  hundred  thirty  two  and  three  the  Dutch  began  to  settle  on  the  western 
end  of  Long  Island.    It  had  been  previously  inhabited  by  a  treacherous  and  power- 
ful tribe  of  Indians,  who  possessed  many  canoes  large  enough  to  carry  eighty  men. 
4 


16 


The  Navy  Yard  was  commenced  in  March,  eighteen  hundred  and  one,  by  the 
purchase  of  forty  acres  of  land  for  forty  thousand  dollars.  It  is,  at  present,  under 
the  superintendence  of  Commodore  Chauncy,  and  other  efficient  officers.  Stores  of 
every  description  are  provided,  carefully  arranged,  and  securely  covered,  and  guarded 
by  a  company  of  marines. 

The  value  of  the  public  property  frequently  collected  here,  may  be  estimated  at 
ten  millions  of  dollars.  This  port  has  received  the  preference  by  the  government,  as 
the  principal  naval  depot. 

Of  the  American  Navy,  our  limits  preclude  the  possibility  of  entering  into  any 
details.  An  idea  of  its  real  strength,  however,  cannot  be  formed  from  the  number 
of  ships,  their  weight  of  metal,  discipline,  or  general  preparation  for  service,  as  it  is 
the  existing  policy  of  government  to  preserve  the  public  vessels  already  built,  and 
provide  materials  for  future  use,  rather  than  to  increase  the  present  number.  Mr. 
Branch,  the  late  Secretary  of  the  Navy,  in  a  recent  report  to  the  President  of  the 
United  States,  observes  that  "  the  great  expense  attending  the  support  of  so 
large  a  naval  force  as  may  be  occasionally  required,  to  give  security  to  the  com- 
mercial pursuits  of  the  nation,  makes  it  a  matter  of  leading  importance  that  a  system 
be  pursued  which  shall  place  the  resources  of  the  country  in  a  condition  to  be  rea- 
dily brought  into  action,  whenever  the  necessity  presents  itself,  without  incurring  the 
expense  of  maintaining  such  large  force  when  its  services  are  not  wanted." 

The  buildings  in  plate  third  are  situated  about  a  mile  and  a  quarter  from  the 
City  Hall,  in  a  part  of  Bleeckcr  Street  which  has  recently  received  the  appellation 
of  Le  Roy  Place.  They  are  distinguished  by  nothing  extraordinary,  and  little  more 
concerning  them  can  be  gathered  from  books,  or  gleaned  from  the  lips  of  the  living, 
than  that  they  have  been  erected  but  a  few  years,  and  afford  a  new  evidence  of  the 
surprising  improvements  visible  in  the  city.  A  marked  deviation  from  every  rule  of 
regularity  is  one  of  the  most  striking  peculiarities  in  the  streets  of  New  York. 
While  some  run  in  straight  lines,  others  describe  a  circuitous  course,  which,  after 
many  circumlocutions,  at  length  conduct  the  bewildered  stranger  near  the  very  spot 
whence  he  commenced  his  peregrinations,  and  many  traverse  the  city  obliquely,  giv- 
ing rise  to  certain  squares  with  three  sides  and  entailing  upon  some  of  the  inhabit- 
ants the  necessity  of  triangular  rooms.  The  houses  present  numerous  instances  of 
the  same  inconsistency.    A  fine  block  may  sometimes  be  observed  wherein  each 


17 


is  of  different  height  and  composed  of  various  materials.  Several  of  the  beautiful 
new  structures  in  the  plate  are  of  gray  stone,  others  of  brick ;  on  one  side,  as  the 
observer  will  perceive,  the  centre  one  is  elevated,  while  on  the  other  all  are  alike. 
They,  however,  have  a  uniform  color,  and  present  an  imposing  appearance.  Many 
of  our  citizens  have  beheld  the  ground  which  they  occupy,  and  which  is  now 
covered  with  a  dense  mass  of  elegant  buildings,  once  laid  out  in  pleasant  farms, 
gardens,  and  rural  orchards. 

It  may  here  be  remarked  that,  as  the  population  increases,  the  stores,  hotels, 
and  boarding  houses,  and  the  mansions  of  those  most  engaged  in  business,  nearly 
monopolize  the  lower  parts  of  the  city,  while  the  number  of  private  residences  is 
annually  augmenting  in  the  northern  sections.  Thus  many  of  the  spacious  edifices 
in  Broadway,  once  occupied  by  the  most  wealthy  and  respectable  families,  appear, 
one  after  the  other,  in  the  new  character  of  public  houses,  while  the  most  magnifi- 
cent mansions  are  continually  arising  even  to  the  surprise  of  our  own  citizens  in  the 
upper  parts  of  the  town.  Of  these  few  perhaps  are  more  beautiful  than  those  in  Le 
Roy  Place. 

The  two  principal  streets  which,  almost  parallel  to  the  river,  divide  the  city 
into  eastern  and  western  sections,  are  Broadway  (formerly  Breed-weg  and  the 
Here-weg  or  the  Lord's  Way)  and  Chatham  Street,  the  continuation  of  which  is 
denominated  the  Bowery.  The  latter  probably  derives  its  name  from  Stuyvesant 
Bouwery  or  Farm.  From  these  a  great  number  of  avenues  lead  to  different  parts  of 
the  island.  The  Third  Avenue,  and  probably  the  greatest  thoroughfare,  was  ordered 
to  be  opened  in  eighteen  hundred  and  eleven.  A  fine  ride  along  this  road,  and  one 
of  its  eastern  branches,  conducts  the  traveller  to  the  Shot  Tower,  represented  in  our 
last  engraving.  It  is  about  four  miles  and  a  quarter  from  the  city,  and  rises  to  the 
height  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  in  one  of  the  pleasantest  spots  of  the  island.  It 
was  erected  a  few  years  ago  by  Mr.  George  Youle,  and  is  the  only  structure  of  the 
kind  near  New  York.  The  hours  of  work  are  from  nine  till  eleven,  during  which 
time  three  tons  of  shot  are  made.  The  process  by  which  it  is  manufactured  is  sim- 
ple and  easy.  The  molten  metal  is  poured  through  a  seive,  from  the  furnaces  sit- 
uated at  and  near  the  summit,  and  thence  falls  into  a  reservoir  of  water  at  the  bot- 
tom. In  the  descent  it  is  hardened  without  injury  to  its  rotundity.  The  largest 
size  from  the  highest  seive  is  received  into  a  reservoir  or  well  twenty  five  feet 
below  the  surface  of  the  earth.    We  are  unable  to  famish  a  more  detailed  descrip- 


18 


tion  of  the  interior  in  consequence  of  a  somewhat  peremptory  negative  from  one  of 
the  superintendents  to  an  application  for  admission. 

The  exterior,  its  tall  and  peculiar  form  rising  high  in  the  air,  contrasts  finely 
with  the  neighboring  seats,  some  half  buried  under  masses  of  luxuriant  foliage. 
The  nearest  opposite  shore  is  a  part  of  Blackwell's  Island,  on  which  the  spacious 
Penitentiary  has  lately  been  constructed.  Along  this  narrow  channel  of  the  East 
River  pass  in  numbers  the  sloops  and  steamboats  which  ply  between  the  city 
and  the  various  ports  on  Long  Island  Sound.  In  the  summer  evening  their  white 
sails  may  be  frequently  seen  gliding  through  the  pale  moonlight — the  heavy  steam- 
boats plough  steadily  onward,  often  crowded  with  hundreds  of  passengers,  while  from 
the  decks  are  heard  the  notes  of  the  bugle  or  bursts  of  martial  music,  till  the  long 
stream  of  fiery  smoke  which  marks  their  progress  at  length  disappears. 

The  shores  of  the  river  are  here  beautifully  varied  and  picturesque.  In  one 
place  the  water  laves  the  edge  of  green  meadows,  in  another  it  breaks  against 
fragments  of  rocks.  Sometimes  a  verdant  hill  rises  abruptly  to  the  cultivated  gar- 
dens and  splendid  buildings  which  decorate  the  banks,  and  sometimes  a  road  winds 
down  to  the  shore  and  leads  to  rural  abodes  fitted  up  for  the  entertainment  of  the 
throngs  who  escape  for  a  few  hours  from  the  town  to  enjoy  the  breath  of  the  fields, 
the  woods,  and  the  river.  In  the  distance  the  Navy  Yard  may  be  perceived  and  the 
eastern  part  of  the  city.  From  this  tranquil  scene,  in  the  stillness  of  the  summer 
morning,  the  thousand  various  sounds  of  the  inhabitants  mingled  together  in  a  low 
murmur,  may  be  heard  like  the  roaring  of  the  distant  sea  as  its  waves  break  on  the 
beach.  The  garden  and  hotel  adjoining  the  tower  are  at  present  kept  by  Mr. 
Hilton,  from  whose  grounds  the  view  was  taken.  In  this  cool,  pleasant,  and 
shadowy  retreat,  surrounded  by  a  profusion  of  shrubbery  and  flowers,  with  birds 
singing  in  the  trees,  and  the  waters  breaking  in  ripples  upon  the  shore,  the  citizen 
is  pleased  to  linger  in  the  refreshing  breezes  of  the  summer  afternoon,  or  in  the 
cool  shadow  of  the  early  day,  and  here 

"In  the  sweet  solitude  of  this  calm  place, 

This  intricate  wild  wilderness  of  trees, 

And  flowers,  and  undergrowth  of  odorous  plants,'' 

we  leave  the  reader  to  his  thoughts  till  the  next  chapter. 


CHAPTER  III. 


"  Sunrise  was  slanting  on  the  city  gates 
Rosy  and  beautiful,  and  from  the  hills 
The  early  risen  poor  were  coming  in 
Duly  and  cheerfully  to  their  toil,  and  up 
Rose  the  sharp  hammer's  clink,  and  the  far  hum 
Of  moving  wheels  and  multitudes  astir, 
And  all  that  in  a  city  murmur  dwells." 

Willis. 


There  are  fine  views  in  the  vicinity  of  New  York,  though  few  of  them 
lire  on  the  Island.  Strangers  naturally  inquire  respecting  the  suburbs,  and  they 
who  have  admired  the  scenery  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Boston,  are  disappointed 
as  they  ride  through  the  outskirts  of  this  city,  and  too  frequently  form  an  er- 
roneous conclusion;  forgetting  that  being  so  nearly  surrounded  by  water,  the 
best  positions  for  a  prospect  must  be  on  the  adjacent  shores.  From  Brooklyn 
Heights,  for  example,  the  scene  is  striking.  The  waters  of  the  Sound,  here 
compressed  within  the  narrow  channel  of  the  East  River,  rush  through  in  a 
rapid  and  powerful  current,  till  they  broaden  into  the  immense  Bay  that,  in 
beauty  and  singular  adaptatation  to  the  wishes  of  a  commercial  people,  has  on- 
ly one  superior  in  the  world.  The  city,  like  Venice,  rising  directly  from  the 
wave,  the  infinite  variety  of  vessels  that  crowd  the  harbour,  the  islands  scatter- 
ed around,  the  angle  of  the  town,  with  the  innumerable  sights  and  sounds  in- 
cidental to  such  a  multitude  engaged  in  active  occupation,  the  indented  banks 
of  Long  Island,  crowned  with  picturesque  mills  and  showy  seats,  some  of  them 
half  hidden  by  the  foliage,  the  town  of  Brooklyn  on  the  right,  and  Staten  Is- 
land, in  the  distance,  swelling  up  against  the  sky — all  these  agreeable  objects, 
so  disposed  before  him,  awaken  both  interest  and  admiration  in  the  beholder. 
The  shores  of  York  Island,  washed  by  the  East  River,  present  also  many  spots 
which  nature  and  art  have  combined  to  decorate  with  an  imposing  beauty;  and, 
in  New  Jersey,  opposite  the  western  section  of  the  city,  are  to  be  found  scenes 
which  are  the  boast  and  pleasure  of  the  citizens.  A  portion  of  this  shore 
is  represented  in  the  ninth  engraving.  The  most  varied  and  lovely  scenery 
tempts  the  feet  of  the  stranger  for  several  miles  along  the  waves  of  the  Hud- 
son, till  he  wanders  from  Hoboken  Ferry  to  Weehawken,  by  a  road  of  such 
singular  and  romantic  beauty,  as  to  merit  more  than  a  casual  notice.  From 
the  foot  of  Barclay  and  Canal  Streets,  in  the  city,  Steam-boats  ply  at  brief 
1 


20 


intervals,  and  are  fifteen  minutes  in  crossing.  Hoboken  derives  its  name  from 
one  of  the  old  aristocratic  families  of  Antwerp.  A  hotel,  kept  by  Mr.  Van 
Antwerp,  is  located  on  the  summit  of  a  high  sloping  bank,  amid  a  pleasant 
grove,  and  within  a  few  hundred  yards  of  the  water.  In  summer,  the  spacious 
lawn  before  the  mansion  is  thronged  with  hundreds  who,  in  this  attractive  and 
refreshing  retreat,  enjoy  the  hours  of  the  afternoon.  The  portly  citizen  who 
has  gone  dripping  over  the  heated  pavements  in  the  morning,  here  lounges  up- 
on a  commodious  seat,  sips  his  favourite  beverage,  and  grows  gradually  cool 
with  the  declining  day.  Groupes  of  lively  children  are  forming  and  breaking 
away  around  you,  the  honest  tradesman  sits  and  breathes,  the  lawyer  lo- 
ses the  chance  of  a  fee  to  escape  to  this  breezy  eminence,  the  orator  leaves 
Tiis  discourse  unfinished  to  muse  on  an  appropriate  conclusion  here,  and  the  edi- 
tor flings  down  his  pen  in  a  passion,  answers  his  devil's  remonstrances  with 
uncivil  ejaculations,  and  hastens  hither,  where  he  puffs  out  cigar  smoke  and 
settles  paragraphs,  inhales  milk  punch  and  ideas  in  the  same  delicious  moment. 
Indeed  there  is  a  period  during  the  most  sultry  season,  when  all  classes  may 
find  a  happy  representative  here;  when  the  belle  and  the  beau,  the  rich  and 
the  poor,  the  merry  and  the  discontented,  meet  upon  a  common  level  of  en- 
joyment, and  the  actor  who  last  night  stalked  before  you  as  Richard  or  Othel- 
lo, has  left  his  coat  and  his  conscience  in  the  theatre,  and  lounges  here  in  a 
state  of  luxurious  inanimation.  If  you  are  indolent,  you  will  sit  quietly,  satisfied 
to  gaze  abroad  upon  the  splendid  spectacle  which  lies  stretched  before  you;  but 
we  recommend  you,  after  having  watched,  for  a  few  moments,  the  rapid  rail 
road  car,  as  it  sweeps  by  in  its  circular  flight  with  the  easy  velocity  of  a 
bird,  to  ramble  onward  along  the  deeply  shaded  promenade  that  winds  gracefully 
in  among  the  over  spreading  foliage,  and  leads  by  the  river  towards  the  Ely- 
sian  fields  and  Weehawk.  The  name  of  the  former  is  appropriately  bestowed 
upon  a  tract  of  charming  meadow,  a  little  more  than  a  mile  from  the  ferry, 
and  on  your  road  as  you  pass  to  the  bold  promontory  of  Weehawk.  This  is 
an  Indian  name  for  a  spot  celebrated  for  its  natural  beauty,  and  rendered  clas- 
sical by  the  lines  of  Mr.  Halleck,  which  are,  or  ought  to  be,  familiar  to  all 
our  readers.  Elysium  was  formerly  known  by  the  more  homely  appellation  of 
Turtle  Grove;  not  from  the  turtle  doves  whose  low  music  charmed  its  shades, 
but  from  the  fare  of  the  substantial  citizens,  who,  in  former  times,  selected  tlu> 
pleasant  and  retired  site  for  the  scene  of  their  turtle  soup  dinners,  and  doubt- 
less availed  themselves  of  the  opportunity  to  practice  all  kinds  of  good  humour- 
ed nonsense  without  alarming  the  city., 


21 


The  approach  to  the  Elysian  fields,  along  the  water  side,  is  romantic  and 
beautiful.  Familiarity  blunts  our  perceptions  of  physical  as  well  as  moral  na- 
ture; yet,  the  stranger  dwells  with  delight  upon  the  softness,  the  brightness  and 
variety  of  this  scene,  the  improvements  of  which,  lately  effected  by  colonel 
Stevens,  are  laid  out  with  great  taste.  We  come  to  it  through  a  narrow, 
circuitous  path,  overarched  with  oak  branches,  which  completely  shut  out  the 
view,  except  one  or  two  magnificent  glimpses  of  the  city,  bay,  and  narrows. 
As  you  draw  near  the  pavilion,  recently  erected,  of  which  we  present  an  en- 
graving, the  prospect  gradually  opens  into  a  broad  meadow,  displaying  lofty  trees 
at  wide  distances  from  each  other,  and,  at  length,  spreads  away  into  a  superb 
green  lawn,  whose  sudden  extent  is  relieved  by  gentle  undulations,  like  the  slow, 
silent  swells  of  the  ocean  in  its  calmest  moments.  The  land  which  has  hith- 
erto been  elevated  so  that  the  dash  of  the  water  floated  up  to  *you  from  below, 
now  descends  to  a  level  with  the  river,  and  the  waves  roll  in  and  break 
With  their  silver  beauty  at  your  feet.  The  broad  city  is  distinctly  seen  in  the 
distance — the  Hudson,  which  here  ends  its  pilgrimage,  expands  into  an  apparent 
lake,  which  leads  the  eye  on  the  south  to  those  immense  gates  through  which 
it  pours  its  tribute  floods  into  the  Atlantic,  and  on  the  north,  to  the  jutting 
point  of  Weehawk,  a  beautiful  fragment  clothed  with  deep  rich  verdure,  thus 
left  perchance  in  long  past  ages,  broken  by  the  river,  as  it  forced  a  passage 
through  the  mountains.  Immediately  around  you  are  shady  ravines,  luxuri- 
ant forests,  and  cultivated  fields;  and,  as  the  level  beams  of  the  setting  sun 
Stream  through  the  branches  and  mark  the  ground  with  long  grotesque  shadows, 
you  realize  the  spirited  lines  of  the  poet: 

"  The  landscape  to  the  view 
Its  vistas  opens,  and  its  alleys  green. 
Snatched  through  the  verdant  maze,  the  hurried  eye 
Distracted  wanders;  now  the  bowery  walk 
Of  covert  close,  where  scarce  a  speck  of  day 
Falls  on  the  lengthened  gloom,  protracted  sweeps: 
Now  meets  the  bending  sky:  the  river  now 
Dimpling  along,  the  breezy-ruffled  lake, 
The  forest  darkening  round,  the  glittering  spirer 
The  etherial  mountain  and  the  distant  main. 
Along  these  blushing  borders  bright  with  dew 
And  in  yon  mingled  wilderness  of  flowers, 
Fair-handed  Spring  embosoms  every  grace  ! 


22 


A  brief  but  somewhat  laborious  walk  from  this  little  Eden  conducts  you 
lo  the  summit  of  Weehawk  hill.  At  its  base  are  a  ferry  house  and  tavern. 
\  boat  may  be  here  procured  for  the  duelling  ground,  about  one  hundred  rods 
north,  under  the  steep  bank  of  the  river.  This  place  cannot  be  easily  ap- 
proached except  by  water.  You  will  experience  a  mournful  satisfaction  in  tread- 
ing on  ground  so  fraught  with  melancholy  associations,  and  wonder  that  mur- 
der, led  by  fashion,  should  select  a  spot  of  such  peaceful  beauty  for  its  cruel 
and  bloody  sacrifice.  At  this  point  commences  the  perpendicular  ridge  known 
by  the  name  of  the  Palisade  rocks.  They  form  the  western  bank  of  the  river 
for  about  twenty  miles  to  the  north,  and  reach  an  elevation  of  nearly  two 
hundred  feet.  The  summit  of  this  precipice  commands  another  view  embra- 
cing Long  Island  sound,  the  island  of  Manhattan  or  York,  the  county  of  West- 
chester and  the  highlands,  on  the  north.  A  few  miles  to  the  west,  the  bold 
eminences,  which  rise  from  the  shores  of  the  Hudson,  subside  into  a  tract  of 
richly  variegated  country,  presenting  a  gentle  declivity ;  and  in  the  valley  be- 
neath, the  Hackensac  river  threads  its  course  along  the  lowlands.  Travellers 
passing  between  the  city  and  the  falls  of  the  Passaic,  in  New  Jersey,  would 
find  themselves  amply  compensated  for  the  slight  additional  trouble  of  taking  this 
yiew  in  their  route.  It  was  these  scenes  which  the  good  Sir  Hendrick  Hudson 
termed  "  the  pleasantest  land  for  cultivating  that  men  need  tread  upon." 

The  City  Hotel,  in  the  next  Plate,  is  one  of  the  oldest  and  most  exten- 
sive public  houses  in  the  city.  It  fronts  on  Broadway,  between  Cedar  and 
Thames  Streets,  occupying  an  entire  square,  and  is  calculated  for  the  accom- 
modation of  about  one  hundred  and  sixty  persons.  Besides  the  public  depart- 
ment there  is  one  appropriated  to  the  use  of  private  families  and  parties,  with 
a  separate  entrance,  also  in  Broadway.  In  addition  to  the  number  of  small 
parlours  and  lodging  rooms,  it  contains  one  of  the  most  spacious  and  elegant 
apartments  in  the  United  States,  chiefly  used  for  concerts  and  balls.  For  the 
last  fourteen  years  this  establishment  has  been  under  the  direction  of  Mr.  Ches- 
ter Jennings.  No  situation  in  the  city  offers  more  convenience  for  strangers 
desirous  of  residing  near  the  principal  scenes  of  business,  fashion  and  pleasure. 
In  its  vicinity  are  the  Battery,  Wall  Street  with  nearly  all  the  banks,  the 
Post  Office  and  the  Exchange,  the  chief  book  stores  and  libraries,  and  the 
Park  Theatre,  It  is  the  property  of  Mr.  John  Jacob  Astor,  who  bought  it  in 
April,  1828,  for  one  hundred  and  twenty-one  thousand  dollars.  The  annual  rem 
is  nine  thousand  dollars. 


23 


In  tlie  distance  are  discerned  Trinity  and  Grace  Churches.  The  ware- 
house of  R.  &  W.  Nunns,  well  known  as  makers  of  fine  pianos,  is  also  seen 
in  the  plate.  About  two  hundred  and  fifty  instruments  are  annually  manufactu- 
red bv  these  superior  artizans.  Connected  with  their  rooms  is  the  store  of  Mr. 
Hewett,  where  may  be  obtained  an  extensive  assortment  of  music  and  musical 
instruments. 

The  Asylum  for  the  insane,  at  Manhattanville,  about  seven  miles  from  the 
city,  was  commenced  on  the  seventh  of  May,  eighteen  hundred  and  eighteen. 
It  is  a  branch  of  the  New  York  Hospital,  under  the  government  of  the  same 
managers,  and  is  endowed  with  funds  amounting  to  ten  thousand  dollars  per 
annum,  for  forty-four  years:  an  appropriation,  granted  by  the  legislature  of 
the  state  in  eighteen  hundred  and  sixteen. 

The  site  of  this  fine  building  is  an  elevation  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet 
above  the  Hudson  river.  It  may  be  information  to  some  of  our  young  readers, 
that  there  is  a  slight  variation  in  the  level  of  the  Hudson  and  East  rivers.  This 
has  been  tested  by  experiments  made  at  the  foot  of  Roosevelt  and  Canal  Streets, 
at  several  times  of  tides.  The  difference  was  ascertained  to  be  from  a  quarter 
of  an  inch  to  one  and  two  inches,  by  slight  gradations,  and  at  one  moment  eight 
inches.  The  Asylum  and  grounds  occupy  seventy-seven  acres,  purchased  at  five  hun- 
dred dollars  each.  It  was  completed  in  the  course  of  two  years,  at  the  entire  cost 
of  two  hundred  thousand  dollars.  The  edifice  is  composed  of  red  sand  stone, 
from  New  Jersey.  It  is  three  stories  high,  besides  the  basement,  two  hundred 
and  eleven  feet  in  length,  and  sixty  feet  deep.  The  interior  is  divided  into 
three  parts.  One  is  allotted  to  males,  another  to  females,  and  the  cen- 
tral occupied  by  the  superintendant,  his  family,  the  physician,  and  governors. 
Through  each  story  extends  a  hall  leading,  on  either  side,  into  apartments, 
where  the  unhappy  tenants  are  accommodated.  None  are  admitted  gratuitously, 
but  a  limited  number  may  be  sent  from  each  senate  district,  at  two  dollars  per 
week,  to  be  paid  by  contributions  from  their  friends  or  the  overseers  of  the  poor. 
Individuals  in  affluent  circumstances  receive  luxuries,  consistent  with  their  health, 
and  are  boarded  at  the  rate  of  ten  dollars  per  week.  The  whole  building  is 
warmed  safely  and  comfortably  by  means  of  flues  from  below.  The  number  of 
patients  is  limited  to  two  hundred.  The  visiting  committee  report  that  the  me- 
thod of  medical  and  moral  treatment  here  pursued,  has  more  than  realized 
their  sanguine  anticipations.  The  unfortunate  victims  are  led  on  gently  through 
2 


24 


a  course  of  agricultural  and  mechanical  occupations.  Books  are  given  to  such 
as  will  read;  others  are  persuaded  to  draw,  or  amuse  themselves  with  easy  ex- 
ercise in  the  sunshiny  and  pleasant  gardens.  For  the  use  of  such  as  cannot 
be  safely  trusted  with  more  freedom,  there  are  two  enclosures  surrrounded  by 
high  walls,  on  the  north  side  of  the  edifice,  distinct  from  the  other  grounds, 
and  accessible  only  by  subterranean  passages  in  the  rear.  Every  thing  is  re- 
sorted to  which  can  tend  to  break  in  upon  the  gloomy  monotony  of  madness, 
and  touch,  in  the  dark  disturbed  mind,  the  springs  of  light  and  happy  associa- 
tions. The  most  affectionate  and  careful  attention  is  required  to  exclude  from  the 
imagination  any  idea  of  their  real  situation.  All  appearance  therefore  of  a  prison 
is  concealed.  The  cast-iron  windows  resemble  those  of  ordinary  dwelling  houses. 
Every  object  is  preserved  in  a  state  of  perfect  cleanliness  and  order.  The  pros- 
pect presents  beautifully  embellished  roads  and  shrubbery,  meadows  of  deep  green 
in  which  deer  and  other  animals  are  quietly  browsing,  and,  so  success- 
fully have  the  benevolent  promoters  and  guardians  of  this  noble  institution 
imitated  the  cheerfulness  and  comfort  of  a  private  palace,  that  one  of  the  pris- 
oners, whom  the  thinking  inhabitant  of  the  rough  outward  world  will  almost 
hesitate  to  term  wretched,  wanders  about  the  enclosed  lawns,  with  an  air  of 
lordly  importance,  issues  commands  of  no  equivocal  nature  to  such  strangers  as 
meddle  with  the  fruit  or  flowers,  and,  basking  here  in  the  summer  sunshine, 
sees  his  life  glide  peacefully  on  in  a  pleasant  and  perpetual  enchantment.  The 
visiter  will  however  sometimes  shudder  with  a  cold  feeling  of  horror,  to  hear  the 
still  tranquillity  of  so  lovely  a  spot  broken  by  some  startling  and  positive  voice,  a 
hoarse  laugh,  an  agonizing  shriek  or  a  deep  groan,  mingled  with  the  clank  of  chains, 
from  the  inmates  of  those  separate  buildings  allotted  to  maniacs  of  the  most 
desperate  cast.  Application  for  admission  to  the  patients  must  be  applied  for 
at  the  Hospital  in  Broadway,  as,  without  an  order,  strangers  are  not  shown 
through  the  whole  interior.  The  building  was  planned  by  Thomas  C.  Taylor. 
Esq.  one  of  the  directors.  The  summit  commands  one  of  the  most  delightful  views 
in  the  island,  embracing  an  horizon  of  forty  miles  north  and  south  and  twenty 
east,  including  the  pallisadoes  on  the  west  bank  of  the  Hudson,  rising  perpen- 
dicularly four  hundred  feet.  We  recommend  every  stranger  to  visit  this  emi- 
nence and  enjoy  at  a  single  glance  a  rich  and  glowing  picture  of  natural  beauty. 
Choose  a  summer  afternoon  or  morning,  when  the  level  beams  give  a  depth  of 
light  and  shadow.  You  will  never  be  weary  of  admiring  the  gleamings  of 
the  rivers — the  luxuriant  profusion  of  foliage  and  verdant  fields — the  blue  high- 
lands near  West-Point — the  heights  of  Harlaem  and  Fort  Wasliingto»,  Staten 


25 


Esland  and  Long  Island — the  white  seats  peeping  from  their  leafy  coverings,  and 
the  bay  crowded  with  vessels  of  every  description,  and  betraying  its  proximity 
to  the  great  city  whose  bristling  spires  are  seen  in  the  distance.  Our  descrip- 
tion affords  but  a  faint  idea  of  the  reality  to  those  who  have  neglected  to  in- 
dulge themselves  with  a  view  from  this  fine  elevation;  but  many  a  young  and 
pitying  bosom  will  find  all  the  picturesque  splendours  of  the  prospect,  and  the 
graceful  embellishments  of  the  scenery  immediately  around,  unable  to  drive  away 
the  images  of  the  pale  faces,  which  here  and  there  look  up  from  their  lonely 
meditations — the  white  hand  of  some  maniac  beckoning  from  the  window — the 
vacant  smile — the  glare  of  rancorous  hate — and  that  hideous  sound  of  chains. 
Feelings  of  pleasure,  excited  even  by  the  unusual  beauty  of  nature,  are  rebuked 
by  the  thought  that  you  are  in  the  midst  of  a  crowd  of  your  fellow  beings, 
suffering  under  so-  awful  and  unaccountable  a  visitation  of  Providence. 

In  the  year  seventeen  hundred  and  fifty-two,  an  Exchange  was  built  on 
the  lower  end  of  Wall  Street,  on  the  west  side,  at  or  near  the  intersection  of 
Pearl  Street.  The  expenses  were  principally  defrayed  by  the  private  subscrip- 
tion of  John  Watts  and  other  merchants.  The  Corporation  granted  one  hundred 
pounds  towards  the  same.  In  April,  seventeen  hundred  and  eighty-four,  this 
edifice  was  turned  into  a  market  place,  and  in  Match,  seventeen  hundred  and 
ninety-nine,  it  was  ordered  to  be  taken  down.  The  merchants  were  accus- 
tomed to  congregate  in  a  large  room  in  the  Tontine  Coffee  House,  also  in  Wall 
Street,  until  eighteen  hundred  and  twenty-seven.  This  Tontine  Coffee  House 
was  also  erected  by  merchants.  It  was  commenced  in  seventeen  hundred  and 
ninety-two,  upon  a  spot  formerly  occupied  by  a  Coffee  House,  opened  by  a  Mr. 
Smith  during  the  revolutionary  war,  and  much  frequented  by  the  British  Officers. 

The  present  building  was  commenced  in  April,  eighteen  hundred  and  twen- 
»y-five,  and  completed  in  May,  eighteen  hundred  and  twenty-seven.  The  front 
on  Wall  Street  is  one  hundred  and  fourteen  feet,  and  the  depth  running  through 
to  Garden,  one  hundred  and  fifty.  The  main  body  of  the  building  is  two  stories 
high,  exclusive  of  the  basement  and  an  attic  story  on  Wall  Street.  Two  thirds 
of  the  south  east  portion  of  the  basement  story  is  occupied  with  the  Post  Office. 
The  front  consists  of  pure  white  marble,  from  Westchester  county,  eighteen  miles 
north  east  from  the  city.  The  principal  entrance  from  Wall  Street  is  by  a 
flight  of  nine  marble  steps.  The  portico  of  the  building  is  ornamented  with 
tour  Ionic  columns,  each  composed  of  a  single  block  of  marble  and  weighing 


26 


eighteen  tons.  They  are  ornamented  with  an  entablature,  on  which  rests  the 
attic  story  and  the  cupola.  The  colonade  extending  across  the  front  of  the  ves- 
tibule is  copied  from  the  temple  of  Illyssus.  A  winding  flight  of  steps  leads  to 
the  saloons  of  the  second  and  attic  stories.  Rising  from  the  floor  of  the  first 
are  two  windows,  that  open  into  and  command  a  view  of  the  area  below, 
which  forms  the  subject  of  our  last  engraving.  From  the  attic  story,  a  grated 
door  lends  to  the  telegraphic  room  in  the  cupola,  where  signals  are  made  and 
returned  from  the  telegraph  at  the  Narrows,  seven  miles  and  a  half  distant  south 
west.  The  height  of  the  cupola  above  the  attic  story  is  sixty  feet,  and  sixty 
feet  above  the  pavement  below. 

The  dome  commands  an  extensive  prospect  of  the  city,  harbour,  the  Hud- 
son and  East  rivers,  and  the  surrounding  country  to  a  distance  of  about  twenty 
miles  north  and  west.  This  position,  as  well  as  the  cupola  of  the  City  Hall 
and  several  steeples,  affords  a  fine  panoramic  view  of  the  city.  The  room  dis- 
played in  the  engraving,  is  in  the  centre  of  the  building,  and  is  eighty-five  feet 
long,  fifty-five  wide  and  forty-five  high.  The  architect,  Mr.  M.  E.  Thompson, 
has  been  greatly  praised  for  his  taste  and  skill  in  constructing  it.  The  stock  is 
owned  in  twenty-three  hundred  shares  of  one  hundred  dollars  each. 

The  spacious  apartment  in  the  plate,  from  the  horns  of  one  to  three  P.  M. 
presents  an  interesting  sight  to  the  stranger.  Its  ample  floor  is  thronged  with 
a  crowd,  whose  low  tones  are  blended  into  a  subdued  hum  like  the  murmur 
of  bees.  Upon  this  spot  often  originate  important  commercial  enterprizes,  whose 
results  are  felt  in  distant  parts  of  the  nation  and  indeed  the  world.  Here  for- 
eigners and  natives  meet  to  make  bargains  and  exchange  news,  and  fortunes  are 
built  >ip   and  dissipated   in  a  moment. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


•■  Erewhile,  where  yon  gay  spires  their  brightness  rear, 
Trees  waved,  and  the  brown  hunter's  shouts  were  loud 
Amid  the  forest;  and  the  bounding  deer 

Fled  at  the  glancing  plume,  and  the  gaunt  wolf  yelled  near 

And  where  his  willing  waves  yon  bright  blue  bay 
Sends  up,  to  kiss  his  decorated  brim, 
And  cradles,  in  his  soft  embrace,  the  gay 
Young  group  of  grassy  islands  born  of  him, 
And,  crowding  nigh,  or  in  the  distance  dim, 
Lifts  the  white  throng  of  sails,  that  bear  or  bring 
The  commerce  of  the  world — with  tawny  limb, 
And  belt  and  beads  in  sunlight  glistening, 
The  savage  urged  his  skiff  like  wild  bird  on  the  wing. 

Bryant. 


Free  Schools  were  first  established  in  this  city  in  1797.  The  "  New 
York  Free  School"  was  incorporated  in  1805.  The  New  York  High  School 
was  formed  in  1822,  at  the  suggestion  of  Mr.  John  Griscom,  one  of  the  most 
respected  of  our  fellow  citizens.  The  Edinburgh  High  School  was  adopted  as 
the  model  of  imitation,  and  another  institution  of  the  same  kind  was  organized 
iu  1825,  for  female  pupils.  Sabbath  schools  are  numerous,  and  the  number 
of  minor  private  schools  has  been  estimated  at  four  or  five  hundred.  For 
young  ladies,  several  establishments  of  the  first  rank  exist,  greatly  to  the  cre- 
dit of  those  who  founded  and  those  who  conduct  them,  and  extremely  useful 
in  promoting  the  general  character  of  the  city.  Of  these,  and  the  vast  vari- 
ety of  benevolent,  literary,  and  scientific  institutions,  we  shall  have  occasion 
to  speak  hereafter.  At  present,  we  must  confine  ourselves  to  a  brief  descrip- 
tion of  the  two  edifices  represented  in  the  first  plate  of  this  number.  The 
largest  furnishes  an  accurate  idea  of  the  Washington  Institute,  an  institution 
for  the  instruction  of  young  gentlemen.  It  was  established  eight  or  ten  years 
ago  by  Mr.  George  Hall,  who  has  given  the  public  the  most  ample  evidence? 
of  his  great  capabilities  for  superintending  it,  and  from  him  it  passed  into  the 
hands  of  the  Rev.  Joseph  D.  Wickham,  an  accomplished  scholar  and  esrima- 
1 


28 


ble  man,  who  with  the  valuable  assistance  of  Mr.  John  Lutz,  Professor  of 
Mathematics  and  Natural  Philosophy,  at  present  conducts  it  with  great  ability 
and  success.  We  trust  it  may  not  be  deemed  inappropriate  here,  to  offer  a 
few  remarks  on  education,  naturally  elicited  by  the  present  subject.  To  the 
observations  which  we  are  about  to  advance,  it  is  almost  needless  to  premise 
there  were  several  exceptions.  Before  the  Washington  Institute  was  elevated 
by  Mr.  flail  to  the  rank  which  it  now  holds,  there  had  been  almost  uniform- 
ly throughout  the  academies  of  our  country,  two  glaring  evils.  Learning  was 
either  above  or  below  that  mediocrity  most  befitting  the  mass  of  a  plain  and 
republican  people.  The  pupil  was  obliged  either  to  enter  a  college  and  devote 
the  most  precious  years  of  his  youth  in  acquiring  certain  scholastic  attainments, 
which,  however  ornamental  or  necessary  to  the  learned  professions,  are  not  the 
most  requisite  for  the  majority  of  our  young  men:  or,  he  was  compelled  to 
descend  to  one  of  the  many  academies  conducted  by  irresponsible  and  incom- 
petent persons,  where,  in  endeavouring  to  perfect  himself  in  the  ordinary  branch- 
es, he  was  too  often  exposed  to  the  example  of  vulgar  men,  who  taught  school 
merely  as  adventurers,  and  allured  parents  to  patronize  them  by  cheap  terms. 
We  suspect  there  have  been  more  charletans  among  school  masters,  than  almost 
any  other  profession,  and  for  this  the  public  have  in  a  great  measure  to  blame 
themselves.  Parents  and  guardians  have  been  too  much  accustomed  to  send 
their  children  to  the  care  of  men  who  were  neither  gentlemen  nor  scholars,  and 
whom  they  were  ashamed  to  invite  to  their  own  tables.  The  business  of  in- 
struction had,  by  the  strangest  caprice  and  injustice,  wanted  the  colour  of 
respectability  and  the  prospect  of  pecuniary  gain,  requisite  to  elevate  it  to  its 
natural  station  among  the  rest,  and  had  hence  fallen  into  the  hands  of  a  low 
order  of  society;  and  he  who  felt  a  repugnance  to  commit  his  son  to  their 
charge,  was  compelled  to  adopt  an  alternative  almost  equally  repulsive,  and 
place  him  under  the  control  of  gentlemen  who  led  him  through  the  classics, 
and  accomplished  him  in  many  kinds  of  knowledge,  which  in  after  life  was  neg- 
lected and  forgotten,  and  perhaps  served  to  give  him  a  distaste  for  the  busi- 
ness to  which  .circumstances  called  him,  being  thus  rather  an  obstacle  than  an 
auxiliary.  The  object  of  the  Washington  Institute  is  to  afford  the  desired  me- 
dium, and  while  boys  destined  to  the  professions  can  there  be  fitted  for  college, 
to  the  sons  of  merchants  and  tradesmen  it  offers  great  inducements — a  thorough 
education  in  the  English  branches — the  Spanish,  French,  German,  and  Italian, 
and  whatever  in  the  lighter  departments  can  be  required.  This  experiment 
has  been  well  repaid  by  the  steady  approbation  and   support,  of  the  wealthiest 


29 

and  most  respectable  families  of  the  city  and  of  various  parts  of  the  United 
States.  A  large  number  of  young  men  also  from  the  West  Indies,  Mexico, 
Guatamala,  Columbia,  and  other  divisions  of  Spanish  America,  have  here  re- 
ceived their  education.  It  is  an  additional  consideration  of  paramount  impor- 
tance, that  in  this  healthy  and  beautiful  spot,  the  morals  and  manners  of  the 
pupils  are  regarded  by  the  numerous  assistant  instructors  employed,  with  a  never 
sleeping  care.  The  most  scrupulous  assiduity  has  always  been  exerted  respect- 
ing the  cleanliness,  neatness,  and  domestic  comforts  of  the  extensive  family. 
A  visit  to  this  establishment  would  not  fail  to  interest  every  stranger  of  intelli- 
gence. It  is  situated  on  a  charming  elevation  in  Thirteenth  Street,  combining 
the  many  advantages  of  a  city  vicinity  with  the  pore  air  and  lovely  prospect 
of  the  country.  The  Hudson  may  be  seen  from  the  spacious  piazza  in  the 
rear,  which  also  commands  a  beautiful  view  of  the  East  river.  On  the  west 
and  in  the  perspective,  the  spectator  discovers  the  building  erected  by  the  cor- 
poration in  the  course  of  their  plan  for  supplying  the  town  with  water  to  be 
used  in  the  extinguishment  of  fires.  An  immense  reservoir  has  been  dug  to 
a  great  depth,  through  solid  rock,  and  their  work  has  already  been  so  far 
crowned  with  success,  as  to  insure  a  supply  of  water  through  pipes  already 
laid  along  a  number  of  the   principal  streets. 

The  fourteenth  engraving  shews  a  view  of  the  Hudson  river  from  the  shore 
of  New  Jersey.  This  beautiful  sheet  of  water  is  often  crowded  with  sails  of 
every  description,  from  the  light  open  pleasure  boat  skimming  over  its  bosom,  to 
the  stately  packet  ship  or  the  magnificent  seventy  four.  In  the  distance  on  the 
right,  you  may  discern  a  group  of  buildings,  near  which  is  the  Chemical  Facto- 
ry. This  establishment  is  the  property  of  the  New  York  Chemical  Bank,  which 
has  invested  in  it  one  hundred  thousand  dollars,  one  fifth  of  its  capital  stock.  It 
is  situated  three  miles  from  the  city,  and  annually  manufactures  to  the  amount 
of  about  fifty  thousand  dollars,  in  oil  of  vitriol,  muriatic  acid,  spirits  nitre  fortis, 
aqua  fortis  tin,  aqua  fortis  duplex,  bleaching  powders,  alum,  &c. 

The  fifteenth  plate  offers  to  our  readers  a  view  of  one  of  the  slips  on  the 
eastern  side  of  the  town,  where  is  seen  a  portion  of  the  extensive  shipping  which 
distinguishes  this  above  every  other  American  city,  and  ranks  it  near  the  most 
important  emporiums  of  Europe.  The  slip  in  the  picture  derives  its  name  fron 
the  Tontine  Coffee  House,  a  large  adjoining  building  in  Wall  Street,  erected  in 
1792,  and  presents  nothing  of  peculiar  interest  more  than  what  a  stranger  would 


30 

feel,  in  beholding  a  scene  so  crowded  with  a  variety  of  noble  vessels  and  enliv- 
ened with  the  signs  of  business.     It  however  calls  up  astonishment  at  the  extra- 
ordinary if  not  unparalelled  rapidity  with  which  our  metropolis  has  grown  up  in 
wealth  and  commerce.     In  judging  of  the  past  too,  we  are  naturally  impelled  to 
look  forward,  and  conjecture  has  scarcely  any  limits  respecting  the;  future  great- 
ness of  this  city,  when  we  consider  its  previous  increase  and  the  combined  ad- 
vantages of  its  situation.     In  1650,  the  trade  of  this  port  was  confined  to  fur; 
and  even  in  1683,  our  ancestors  numbered  three  barques,  three  brigantines,  twen- 
ty-six sloops,  and  forty-eight  open  boats.     Now  the  spectator,  at  many  times 
when  the  wind   is  fair,   may,  without  moving  from  one  spot,  count  more  sloops 
than  the  whole  of  the  foregoing,  bending  before  the  breeze  on  tbeir  passage  up 
the  rJudson.     A  volume  of  statistics,  published  several  years  ago,  estimates  the 
value  of  the  merchandize  annually  shipped  and  unshipped  in  this  port,  at  one 
hundred  millions  of  dollars.,  the  average  number  of  merchant  vessels  in   port  at 
six  hundred,  besides  fifty  steamboats.     It  would    be  difficult  to  conjecture  what 
influence  can  arrest  the  extension  of  New  York  city.     It  is  allowed  to  display 
superior  commercial  advantages  over  every  other  on  this  continent.     It  is  the 
grand  reservoir  into  which  capital  flows  from  all  quarters,  and  the  nature  of  its 
magnificent   harbour  leaves  nothing  to  be  desired  by  its  enterprising  inhabitants. 
Every  thing  tends  to  render  it  the  great  centre  of  business,   and   the  wanderer 
from   other  cities  of  the   United  States  immediately  feels  on  his  entrance  into 
New  York,  that  he  is  in  a  place  where  powerful  interests  are  forever  conflicting, 
and  large  enterprises  forever  springing  up,  and  wherein  are  to  be  found  most  of 
the  secret  springs,  which,  extending  their  influence  far  and  wide,  control  the  ope- 
rations of  the  most  remote  parts  of  the  Union.     The  sway  which  it  thus  exer- 
cises, it  owes  to  commerce.     An  intelligent  writer  on  the  same  subject,  observes 
this  distinction:    "It  is  apparent,"  he  says,   "that  it  (New  York)  had  its  origin 
in  commercial  interests,  and  that  the  causes  to  which  its  origin  is  to  be  traced, 
have  little  analogy  with  those   to   which  the   other  settlements  of  the  United 
States  owe  their  existence.     The  first  settlers  of  New  England,  Pennsylvania, 
and  the   Southern  States,  were,  with  few  exceptions,  refugees  from  religious  and 
political  persecution,  and  their  abodes  in  the  wilderness  were  selected,  not  as 
permanent  settlements,  but  as  asylums  to  screen  them  from  the  oppression  which 
had  expelled  them  from  their  homes.     These  settlements  may  therefore  be  con- 
sidered as  consecrated  by  the  presence  of  a  great  moral  principle.     The  first 
settlement  of  New  York  was  without  the  benefit  of  any  moral  impulse  of  this 
nature:  her  shores  were   occupied  by  a  commercial  company,  with  a  view  to 


31 


trade;  and  every  subsequent  addition  to  her  wealth  and  industry  is  to  he  traced 
to  the  operation  of  the  same  cause."  Whoever  mingles  in  the  society  of  New 
York,  will  often  feel  the  force- of  this  observation.  Hoadley  &.  Phelps,  dealers 
in  Drugs,  Paints,  &c,  Phoenix  Buildings,  on  the  right  of  the  view,  do  an  exten- 
sive business,  principally  with  the  cities  and  towns  in  our  country,  particularly 
in  the  south  and  west. 

One  of  the  homeliest  buildings  in  the  city  of  any  note,  as  to  its  exterior, 
is  the  Park  Theatre — the  large  plain  edifice  visible  in  the  sixteenth  piate.  We 
possess  but  slender  materials  for  describing  accurately  the  earliest  efforts  of  our 
ancestors  at  Theatrical  performances,  which  were  commenced  nearly  a  century 
ago  in  a  large  Store  near  the  Old  Slip,  on  a  place  called  Cruger's  Wharf,  at 
about  the  same  period,  by  the  way,  the  first  regular  weekly  was  published  in 
New  York,  called  the  "Weekly  Gazette."  There  are  now  about  thirty  weekly 
papers.  The  accounts  before  us  do  not  represent  the  persons  engaged  in  the 
undertaking  to  have  been  either  very  serious  or  successful,  but  a  mere  party 
of  frolicksome  young  men,  rather  desirous  of  gratifying  their  own  love  of 
mirth  and  frivolity,  than  of  founding  any  permanent  and  well  regulated  dramatic 
establishment. 

About  the  year  one  thousand  seven  hundred  and  fifty,  a  stone  Theatre 
was  built  in  Nassau  Street,  in  the  rear  of  the  Dutch  Church,  near  Maiden 
Lane.  It  is  said  to  have  been  quite  well  conducted  by  a  Mr.  Hallam,  who 
principally  by  the  aid  of  players  from  the  Provincial  Theatres  of  Great  Britain, 
performed  many  of  the  best  English  plays  until  the  Manager,  either  from  want 
of  encouragement,  or  allured  by  more  lucrative  prospects  elsewhere,  withdrew 
his  Company  and  the  building  was  pulled  down. 

In  1770  a  new  effort  was  made  by  a  Mr.  Miller,  in  a  miserable  wooden 
house  in  Beekman  Street,  a  few  doors  below  Nassau  Street.  This  is  described 
as  inferior  to  the  other.  The  scenery  was  of  paper,  and  the  wardrobe  defi- 
cient both  in  quality  and  extent.  This  unfortunate  structure  was  so  far  from 
being  supported  that  the  public,  not  satisfied  with  its  passing  to  its  fate  in  the 
ordinary  course  of  things,  assembled  one  day  under  the  influence  of  some  po- 
litical excitement  and  tore  it  to  pieces. 

During  the  Revolutionary  war,  and  while  the  city  was  in  possession  of  the 
2 


32 

English,  the  drama  was  once  more  resorted  to  as  a  source  of  amusement.  A 
building  was  erected  in  John  Street,  and  plays  were  represented  by  the  British 
officers.  Among  the  pieces  here  performed,  were  several  of  a  satirical  charac- 
ter from  the  pen  of  Burgoyne.  in  1783,  alter  the  British  had  evacuated  the 
city,  the  John  Street  Theatre  fell  into  the  hands  of  a  regular  Company,  and 
was  for  a  time  quite  successful.  A  circumstance  is  said  to  have  occurred  at 
this  period,  by  which  (subsequent  writers  have  informed  us,)  we  may  perceive 
at  a  glance  what  singular  revolutions  take  place  in  the  characters  of  communities 
as  well  as  individuals.  The  recent  accounts  state,  that  the  winter  of  1785  was 
unusually  severe,  and  caused  extreme  suffering  among  the  poor.  The  man- 
ager of  the  Theatrical  Corps  offered  for  their  assistance  the  proceeds  of  a 
night,  amounting  to  one  hundred  pounds.  This  was  declined  by  the  Common 
Council  on  the  ground,  tiiat  Theatrical  exhibitions  had  an  immoral  tendency. 
This  view  of  the  affair,  however,  is  not  altogether  correct,  although  we  ac- 
knowledge with  regret,  which  every  one  inlerested  in  the  character  of  his 
country  must  feel,  that  our  past  history  is  darkened  by  too  many  instances  of 
absurd  bigotry;  yet  in  the  present  instance  we  are  happy  in  finding  a  version 
of  the  affair  less  calculated  to  interfere  with  our  respect  for  our  forefathers. 
A  donation  not  of  one  hundred,  but  of  forty  pounds  was  offered  to  the  Cor- 
poration for  the  use  of  the  poor,  but  was  declined  by  the  Common  Council,  and 
on  the  ground  that  they  disapproved  of  the  "  Establishment  of  a  Play-House. 
without  having  been  licensed,  as  unprecedented  and  offensive ;  and  while  a. 
great  part  of  the  city  was  lying  in  ruins,  and  the  citizens  still  suffering  under 
distress,  there  is  a  loud  call  to  industry  and  economy,  and  it  would  be  unjus- 
tifiable in  them  to  countenance  expensive  and  enticing  amusements.  That 
among  these,  a  Play-House,  however  regidated,  was  to  be  numbered,  while  if 
under  no  restraint,  it  may  prove  a  fruitful  source  of  dissipation,  criminality,  and 
vice."  Indeed  a  mere  act  of  bigotry  so  wanton  and  stupid  as  this  little  cir- 
cumstance has  been  misrepresented  to  the  present  generation,  could  scarcely 
have  occurred  at  the  time  when  such  men  as  Washington,  La  Fayette,  John 
Jay,  Robert  R.  Livingston,  Samuel  Ogden,  and  Richard  Yarick,  were  the 
leading  men  of  the  community,  and  held  the  control  over  the  general  opinions 
as  well  as  the  political  interests  of  men.  The  building  was  destroyed  by  fire 
in  1799. 


The  Park  Theatre,  the  subject  of  our  present  consideration  was  commenced 
in  1795,  during  the  alarming  prevalence  of  the  yellow  fever  in  the  city.  It 


S3 


was  completed  in  1798,  at  which  time  a  petition  from  the  Proprietors  for 
leave  to  erect  a  portico  over  the  side  walk,  was  rejected  by  a  Common  Coun- 
cil, apparently  as  unwilling  to  grant  as  to  receive  favors  from  the  Dramatic 
Corps.  The  cost  of  the  building  was  one  hundred  and  seventy-nine  thousand 
dollars,  but  was  soon  after  >  purchased  at  auction  for  fifty  thousand  dollars,  by 
its  present  owners  Messrs.  Astor  and  Beekman.  It  was  opened  for  public 
performances  in  1798,  under  the  management  of  the  celebrated  Hodgkinson, 
formerly  of  the  John  Street  Theatre.  This  gentleman  must  have  been  gifted 
with  great  powers  as  an  actor,  from  the  strong  and  universal  praise  bestowed 
upon  him  by  those  familiar  with  his  personations;  since  his  death  the  Theatre 
has  passed  under  the  direction  of  Dui'ilap,  Cooper,  Price,  and  its  present  manager, 
Simpson.  In  May,  IS20,  late  one  night  after  the  performance  of  the  even- 
ing, the  building  was  discovered  to  be  on  fire.  We  are  not  aware  that  the 
original  cause  of  the  accident  is  known.  The  interior  was  wholly  consumed, 
but  the  walls  which  are  of  immense  thickness  were  left  standing;  their  height 
also  prevented  the  conflagration,  and  a  heavy  shower  came  very  opportunely  to 
the  assistance  of  the  firemen  in  the  preservation  of  the  surrounding  buildings, 
which  with  a  single  exception  were  uninjured.  Fortunately  this  calamity  was 
attended  by  no  loss  of  lives.  No  one  who  witnessed  the  destruction  of  the 
Park  Theatre  can  ever  forget  the  grandeur  and  sublimity  of  the  spectacle. 
The  sky  was  completely  obscured  with  clouds,  and  shrouded  the  scene  in  im- 
penetrable gloom,  which  greatly  heightened  the  intense  splendour  of  the  fire-light. 
The  flames,  ascending  to  the  height  of  several  hundred  feet,  cast  a  glare  of 
lurid  radiance  over  a  circle  of  many  miles,  and  illuminated  the  city,  especi- 
ally in  the  immediate  vicinity,  with  vivid  brilliancy  and  beauty.  Crowds  of 
citizens  and  among  them  many  ladies  and  gentlemen,  lured  by  the  awful  gran- 
deur of  the  sight,  thronged  by  thousands  to  the  spot,  and  the  dense  mass  of 
human  beings  which  gradually  swarmed  around,  added  strongly  to  the  pictur- 
csqueness  of  the  scene. 

Then  there  is  a  peculiar,  and  almost  indefinable  interest  in  witnessing  the 
destruction  of  a  Theatre,  which  broke  forth  in  a  thousand  murmured  excla- 
mations from  the  lips  of  the  spectators.  We  regarded  the  crashing  edifice  and 
the  thickening  and  heaving  multitude  with  almost  equal  curiosity.  There  was 
the  poet  with  his  dilated  eyes  already  manufacturing  phrases  for  a  poem,  on 
the  conflagration  of  the  Park  Theatre;  and  there  was  the  editor  watching  to 
give  his  country  subscribers  a  faithful  description.     Some  turned  up  their  eyes 


34 


and  shrugged  their  shoulders,  and  nodded  their  heads  knowingly  and  mutter- 
ed aloud  the  "judgment"  which  must  fall  at  last  on  all  haunts  of  worldly 
pleasure.  To  us  it  was  the  breaking  up  of  a  world  of  pleasant  images  and  as- 
sociations. In  these  gleaming  sheets  of  fire  and  deep  masses  of  billowy  smoke 
rolling  upward  on  the  wind,  we  saw  a  host  of  gay  and  gorgeous  spirits  passing 
away.  Kings  and  heroes,  Roman  and  Greek,  maids  and  mothers,  Lear,  Rich- 
ard, Csesar,  Desdemona,  Rosalind,  Falsiaff,  all  vanished  like  a  pleasant  dream. 
Our  extremely  limited  space  warns  us  back  from  digression;  but  we  are  certain 
hundreds  shared  our  half  formed  shifting  reveries  and  regrets  on  beholding  the  ruin  of 
the  edifice  from  which  they  had  derived  so  many  hours  of  amusement.  In  narra- 
ting ihis  catastrophe,  we  should  not  forget  '  the  generosity  of  Mi.  M.  M.  Noah, 
for  whose  benefit,  as  the  author  of  several  popular  pieces,  the  proceeds  of  the 
evening  were  to  have  been  appropriated.  On  account  of  the  misfortune,  he  re- 
turned the  amount  handed  over  to  him  by  the  managers,  although  it  was  the  re- 
ceipts of  a  full  house.  It  was  several  months  after  the  fire  before  the  proprie- 
tors rebuilt  the  edifice.  The  interior  was  much  improved,  but  the  exterior  re- 
tained its  unpromising  aspect.  It  was  re-opened  on  the  evening  of  the  first  of 
August,  1821,  with  a  prize  address,  a  beautiful  composition  from  the  pen  of  Mr. 
Sprague.  The  length  of  the  building  is  sixty  feet,  the  height  fifty-five,  the  depth 
one  hundred  and  sixty-five.  It  is  constructed  of  brick,  and  the  front  is  plastered 
with  oil  cement  in  imitation  of  brown  free  stone.  The  roof  is  shingled  and  cov- 
ered with  tin,  and  the  whole  is  completely  fire  proof.  There  are  five  doors  of 
entrance  to  the  boxes,  two  to  the  pit,  and  one  to  the  gallery,  all  of  which  open 
outward.  Many  lives  were  lost,  it  is  said,  at  the  dreadful  conflagration  of  the 
Richmond  Theatre,  from  the  pressure  of  the  crowd  against  the  doors  which  open 
inward.  The  ticket  lobby  is  nine  feet  wide,  and  forty-seven  and  a  half  long. 
On  the  second  floor  there  is  a  saloon  or  coffee  room  fifty  feet  long.  The  inte- 
rior of  the  house,  which  presents  the  form  of  a  Lyre,  measures  at  its  greatest 
width  fifty-two  and  a  half  feet.  The  house  is  at  present  under  the  management 
of  Messrs.  Simpson,  Barry,  and  Price.  It  will  accommodate  twenty-five  hundred 
persons.     The  annual  rent  is  eighteen  thousand  dollars. 


CHAPTER  V. 


"  As  the  morning  advances,  the  din  of  labour  augments  on  every  side ;  the 
streets  are  thronged  with  man  and  steed,  and  beast  of  burden  ;  the  universal 
movement  produces  ahum  and  murmur  like  the  surges  of  the  ocean.  As 
the  sun  ascends  to  his  meridian,  the  hum  and  bustle  gradually  decline ;  at 
the  height  of  noon  there  is  a  pause ;  the  panting  city  sinks  into  lassitude, 
and  for  several  hours  there  is  a  general  repose.  The  windows  are  closed ; 
the  curtains  drawn  ;  the  inhabitants  retired  into  the  coolest  recesses  of  their 
mansions."      The  Alhambra. 


The  attention  of  the  reader  is  solicited,  in  this  number,  to  a  map  of  the  city  of  New 
York,  and  also  to  two  views.  Of  the  latter,  the  first  represents  a  part  of  Broad-street, 
embracing  an  old  house,  a  relic  of  Dutch  elegance,  which  reminds  one  of  the  days 
of  Dolph  Heyliger,  and  of  Peter  the  Headstrong.  The  other  displays  the  spacious  new 
building  erected  by  Mr.  Holt  as  a  hotel  and  ordinary. 

The  map  affords  room  for  little  other  than  a  mere  geographical  description.  The 
city  of  New  York  lies  in  the  State  of  the  same  name,  and  is  situated  in  latitude  forty 
degrees,  forty-two  minutes,  north ;  longitude  seventy-four  degrees,  one  minute,  eight 
seconds,  west,  from  Greenwich,  England  ;  and  two  degrees,  fifty-four  minutes,  twenty- 
two  seconds  east,  from  the  city  of  Washington.  It  stands  on  an  island  formerly 
called  Manhattan,  but  now  New  York,  which  measures  in  length,  from  north  to  south, 
about  fifteen  miles,  and  from  about  a  mile  to  a  mile  and  a  half  in  breadth.  The  river 
Hudson,  or  North  River,  separates  this  island  from  New  Jersey,  on  the  west ;  the  river 
Haerlem  on  the  north,  from  the  main  land.  The  East  River,  which  is  but  a  passage 
from  the  Sound  to  the  Bay,  divides  it  from  Long  Island,  and  the  Bay  or  Harbour,  from 
Staten  Island.  "  According  to  Van  der  Douck,"  says  a  late  writer, "  who  published  a  his- 
tory of  the  New  Netherlands,  at  Amsterdam,  in  1656,  Hudson's  river  was  the  English 


36 


name  of  the  great  river  coming  from  the  north ;  but  the  Dutch  '  called  it  Mauritius,  after 
Prince  Maurice,  who  then  presided  over  the  government  of  Holland.'  The  Indian  name 
of  the  Island  was  Manhattan ;  the  Dutch  called  the  city  a  JVieuw  Amsterdam  ;  and  the 
English  changed  it  to  the  name  which  it  still  retains.  The  same  writer  gives  us  the  fol- 
lowing description  of  the  bay  of  New  York. — 1  The  bay  on  which  Staten  Island  is  situated 
is  the  most  celebrated,  because  the  East  and  North  rivers  flow  into  it — rivers,  a  particu- 
lar description  of  which  will  presently  be  given,  together  with  a  number  of  kills,  gats,  and 
creeks,  some  of  which  resemble  small  rivers,  and  are  navigable,  as  Raritan  kill,  kill  Van 
Kull,  Nieuvesink,  &.c.  This  bay  is  also  so  formed  as  to  render  it  safe  from  all  boisterous 
winds,  and  a  thousand  ships  of  burthen  may  harbour  in  it  within  the  land.  The  entrance 
into  the  bay  is  extensive,  and  is  accompanied  with  but  little  danger  to  those  who  have 
once  gone,  or  who  have  been  taught  the  passage.  If  persons  are  so  inclined,  and  the 
wind  fair,  they  may  in  one  tide  proceed  from  sea  to  the  city  of  New  Amsterdam,  which 
lies  five  [Dutch]  miles  from  the  ocean,  and  that  wheff  deeply  laden,  with  an  easy  sail, 
and  by  ships  of  the  greatest  burthen.'  The  following  is  the  depth  of  water  over  the 
bar,  as  furnished  by  the  pilot  of  the  United  States'  ship  Boston,  which  passed  in  June, 
1830,  with  the  wind  from  the  westward : 

Carried  over  the  bar  -  -25  feet  6  inches 

Tide  had  fallen  -  -  -     1  6 

27  feet  0  inches." 

It  may  be  proper  here  to  observe,  that,  strictly  speaking,  by  the  term  "  City  of  New 
York"  is  understood  the  county  also,  their  limits  being  the  same,  although  in  general  con- 
versation the  term  refers  only  to  that  part  built  and  paved.  Since  Hudson's  first  visit  to 
this  "  pleasant  land,"  both  the  soil  and  climate  have  undergone  a.  material  alteration ; 
great  labour  and  expense  having  been  lavished  on  that  part  of  the  island  now  oc- 
cupied by  the  houses,  especially  on  that  section  most  compactly  built.  High  banks  and 
hills  have  been  levelled ;  marshes  and  swamps  entirely  filled  up ;  a  lake  of  fresh  water 
called  the  Collect,  near  the  middle  of  the  city,  and  a  high  hill  called  Bayard's  Mount, 
near  the  East  River,  have  within  a  few  years  totally  disappeared.  Large  tracts  on  the 
river  side  are  made  ground,  and  such  parts  of  the  island  as  have  been  cultivated  have 
been  found  remarkably  fertile,  "  producing  a  succession  of  fine  crops  with  little  labour, 
and  almost  without  manure." 

With  the  soil  the  climate  has  also  changed.  It  has  acquired  a  greater  uniformity  - 
The  former  intensely  coid  winters,  and  summers  of  fierce  and  protracted  heat,  occur 
less  frequently,  if  at  all,  and  their  gradual  amelioration  has  exerted  a  favourable  influ- 


37 


ence  in  rendering  the  climate  more  healthy.  Indeed,  previous  writers  on  this  subject 
have  estimated,  that  fewer  persons  die  in  New  York,  in  proportion  to  the  population,, 
than  in  most  of  the  large  cities  and  towns  of  England,  notwithstanding  the  proverbial 
salubrity  of  that  climate.  It  is  ascertained  that  in  Paris,  London,  and  Amsterdam, 
there  are  more  deaths  than  births.  In  this  as  well  as  in  other  cities  of  the  United 
States,  there  are  at  least  two  births  to  one  death :  We  make  this  statement  on  the 
authority  of  the  Transactions  of  the  Literary  and  Philosophical  Society  of  New  York, 
(vol.  I.)  which  adds,  that  "  there  can  be  no  doubt  but  that  the  United  States  have  an 
advantage  over  the  healthiest  parts  of  Europe."  We  have  more  clear  days  here  than 
in  Europe,  and  the  greater  part  of  our  autumn  "is  unparalleled  for  beauty  and  plea- 
santness." 

The  situation  of  New  York  is  peculiarly  healthy,  being  nearly  surrounded  by 
water,  and  open  to  a  sea  breeze.  Its  distance  from  the  Atlantic  is  only  sixteen  miles. 
There  have  already  been  a  number  of  maps  engraved  to  represent  it.  The  first 
was  taken  somewhere  about  the  year  1640,  and  when  it  was  under  the  Dutch 
Government.  From  that,  as  well  as  from  numerous  other  evidences  not  to  be  mis- 
taken, it  is  easy  to  perceive  that  the  town  was  originally  commenced  without  any 
regular  plan.  For  many  years  the  settlers  continued  to  lay  out  the  streets,  and  con- 
struct the  buildings  according  to  accident,  or  the  mere  caprice  of  individuals.  A 
oopy  of  the  map,  above  alluded  to,  ornamented  Knickerbocker's  valuable  History  of 
New  York.  All  the  prominent  buildings  therein  discovered  have  now  given  place  to 
others.  About  thirty  years  afterwards  another  view  was  taken,  which  has  since  been 
re-engraved,  and  may  be  found  in  a  pamphlet  lately  published  by  Moulton.  The  city 
had  then  begun  to  assume  its  present  form.  In  1729,  an  enlarged  map  was  published 
by  James  Lynes,  Surveyor.  Another  map  of  the  city  appeared  in  1766,  and  one  of 
New  York  generally  in  1774.  In  1766  also,  the  English  Parliament  caused  one  to  be 
engraved  in  London.  Goerck  and  Margin  issued  one  in  1803  ;  and  in  1811,  a  map  by 
Bridges  was  executed  by  commissioners  appointed  by  the  state,  for  the  purpose  of  lay- 
ing out  the  greater  part  of  the  island  for  building.  This  was  subsequently  conducted 
on  a  regular  and  uniform  principle. 

At  present,  although  we  believe  the  whole  island  is  laid  out,  it  is  closely  built  onlj 
from  the  Battery  to  Thirteenth-street,  being  a  distance  of  almost  three  miles.  Its 
breadth  is  about  a  mile  and  a  half.  It  is  anticipated  that,  from  the  almost  unprece- 
dented increase  of  the  population  not  many  years  can  elapse  before  the  whole  plan  will 
be  filled  up. 


38 


The  Battery  forms  the  south  western  point  of  the  city  and  island.  Here  the  settle- 
ment first  commenced.  The  streets  emanating  in  radiating  lines  from  this  point  are 
generally  about  three  miles  in  length,  with  the  exception  of  Broadway,  which,  in  conse- 
quence of  an  improvement  lately  effected  in  joining  this  fine  promenade  to  the  Fourth 
Avenue,  presents  the  singular  prospect  of  a  street  nearly  nine  miles  in  a  straight  line, 
and,  when  a  half  century  shall  have  extended  the  city  nearer  to  its  furthermost  limits,  will- 
probably  be  without  a  rival. 

Washington-street,  Greenwich-street,  Broadway,  South,  Front,  Water,  Pear , 
Broad,  Nassau,  and  William  streets,  form  the  oldest  portion  of  the  city — built  up 
principally  before  1 750.  The  shipping  lies  generally  in  the  eastern  waters.  The  south- 
eastern parts  include  the  wealthy  and  most  commercial  portions  ;  the  seats  of  trade  and 
monied  operations. 

The  whole  island  is  laid  out  into  eleven  principal  avenues,  each  one  hundred  feet 
wide.  These  are  intersected  by  cross  streets  to  the  number  of  one  hundred  and  fifty-six, 
and  about  sixty  feet  wide ;  of  these,  the  Third  Avenue,  leading  six  miles  from  Vaux- 
hall  Garden  to  Harlaem,  is  the  chief,  and  forms  the  principle  thoroughfare  in  the  road 
to  the  Eastern  States.  The  old  roads,  used  before  the  avenues  were  commenced,  are 
stopped  up  as  the  main  avenues  are  finished. 

The  compact  part  of  the  city — that  is  the  part  comprized  within  the  watch  and 
lamp  districts,  contains  two  hundred  and  fifty-six  streets,  and  has  been  computed  to 
measure  one  hundred  miles  of  pavement. 

It  has  been  a  general  theme  of  regret,  that  they,  under  whose  control  the  older 
parts  of  the  city  were  constructed,  had  rendered  so  few  facilities  for  squares,  parks, 
green  promenades,  parade  grounds,  &c.  The  Commissioners,  under  the  act  of  1807: 
have  very  properly  remedied  this  defect  in  regard  to  the  future  increase.  From 
First-street  up  to  One-Hundred-and-Fifty-Fifth-street,  at  Macomb's  Bridge,  there  arc 
98,660  lots  of  25  by  100  feet  each — 4,032  of  these  have  been  reserved  for  public 
purposes. 

Of  the  future  continued  and  rapid  growth  of  the  city  of  New  York  very  few 
have  any  doubt,  although  some  imagine  that,  in  preference  to  augmenting  the  numbev 
of  houses  '>n  the  island,  the  new-comers  will  find  it  more  to  their  advantage  to  buik! 
no  the  vacant  land  at  Powles'  Hook  and  Hoboken,  on  the  opposite  Jersey  shore,  ana 


39 


Brooklyn,  Williamsburgli,  and  Flatbush,  Long  Island.  At  these  places  rent  is  com- 
paratively low  and  land  cheap  ;  and  they  offer  a  very  desirable  proximity  to  the  busi- 
ness parts  of  this  town.  Although  the  price  of  land  in  tliis  island  is  not  extravagantly 
high,  yet  there  are  very  burdensome  assessments  for  opening  avenues  and  streets,  and 
for  filling  and  regulating  the  ground. 

Two  defects,  both  important,  but  neither  beyond  the  reach  of  remedy,  will  arrest 
the  attention  of  the  intelligent  stranger :  One  is  the  state  of  the  wharves,  which  are 
now  constructed  of  wood,  but  should  be  solid  masonry.  The  other,  the  want  of  a 
supply  of  water.  Both  of  these,  we  trust,  will  ere  long  receive  the  efficient  notice  of 
the  public  authorities. 

Of  that  portion  of  the  city  which  has  not  yet  been  built  up  compactly,  or  in  other 
words,  of  the  rest  of  the  island,  the  limits  of  which  are  also  the  limits  of  the  county,  it 
is  not  necessary  here  to  say  much.  It  consists  principally  of  one  formation,  granite 
occasionally  overlaid  by  other  rock.  We  must  except  a  section,  stretching  about  three 
miles  from  the  Battery,  which  is  alluvial ;  near  the  mouth  of  King's  Bridge  Creek, 
about  twelve  miles  from  the  City  Hall,  the  granite  ceases  abruptly,  and  is  succeeded  by 
marble,  so  continuing  to  the  termination  of  the  island.  This  marble  presents  a  most 
valuable  material  for  building,  is  convenient  to  the  river,  and  may  be  obtained  in  great 
quantities,  and  easily  transported.  It  is  supposed  by  many,  that  it  will,  at  some  future 
period,  in  a  measure  supersede  the  use  of  red  sand-stone  and  brick. 

In  some  parts  porcelian  clay  has  been  found  in  small  quantities. 

The  island  presents  various  views  of  extreme  beauty,  and  a  pleasant  tour  may  be 
made  around  it  in  a  few  hours ;  visiting  the  Lunatic  Asylum,  (of  which  we  have 
already  presented  an  engraving,)  Harlaem  and  King's  Bridge,  Hurl  Gate,  the  Alms 
House,  and  Penitentiary. 

The  number  of  houses  in  the  city  are  annually  increasing  with  singular  ra- 
pidity, and  many  of  them  exceed  in  splendour  any  thing  before  seen  this  side  of 
the  Atlantic.  They  have  been  estimated,  in  1816,  at  47,900 ;  and  in  1828,  at 
80,000,  within  the  last  four  years,  the  increase  has  gone  on  more  rapidly.  All 
the  old  fashioned  wood  tenements  with  shingle  roofs,  are  disappearing,  and  brick 
houses  with  slate  roofs  occupy  tiieir  plice.  It  is,  however,  a  disgrace  t'>  the  wealthy 
men  who  are  continually  running  up  blocks  of  buildings  on  speculation,  that  many  of 


40 


•  hem  are  constructed  carelessly,  of  very  worthless  materials,  and  inadequately  put 
together.  Numerous  accidents  have  been  the  consequence.  The  catastrophe  in  Fulton- 
street,  where  an  immense  building,  six  stories  high,  (the  site  of  which  can  be  dis- 
tinctly seen  in  the  18ih  Plate,)  fell  to  the  ground,  crushing  a  number  of  human 
beings  beneath  its  ruins,  is  yet  fresh  in  every  body's  recollection ;  and,  while  we  pen 
these  remarks,  a  paper  is  lying  on  the  table  stating,  that  a  brick  edifice  was  yesterday 
blown  down  in  a  thunder-shower.  Of  this  building  we  are  assured,  that  the  lower  part 
of  the  walls  were  one  brick  and  a  half  in  thickness,  the  upper  part  only  one  brick. 
The  mortar  was  so  slightly  laid  on,  that  the  bricks  scattered  about  presented  no  ap- 
pearance of  having  been  touched  by  it.  These  are  but  exceptions  to  the  general 
style  of  building,  as  others  are  raised  with  lavish  expense  and  great  elegance  and  taste, 
and  travellers  acknowledge  that,  in  their  internal  construction,  "  the  dwelling-houses  in 
New  York  are  not  surpassed  in  any  other  country." 

Among  the  most  picturesque  objects  afforded  by  our  city,  several  years  ago, 
were  those  relics  clothed  with  associations  half  ludicrous  half  melancholy,  of  our 
renowned  ancestors  the  Dutch.  There  is  something  at  once  neat  and  ridiculous 
in  their  peculiar  style  of  architecture.  We  have  indeed  paused  before  these  vener- 
able remnants  of  days  gone  by,  not  without  a  propensity  to  sentimentalize.  Amid 
the  new  fancied  fashions  of  modern  architecture — the  aspiring  three  story  brick 
houses— the  high  flight  of  steps — the  damask  curtains — the  glittering  carriage  and 
glossy  prancing  steeds  before  the  door, — how  plain  and  yet  how  striking  appear  these 
emblems  of  past  times.  Those  sharp-pointed  roofs,  those  leaden  windows,  those 
gable  fronts,  that  lowly  threshold  whereby  sat  the  stately  burgomaster,  with  lus 
fragrant  pipe,  while  around  him  peradventure  opened  green  fields,  and  above  him 
rastled  pleasant  branches ;  and  within,  his  plump  and  rosy^chee'ked  daughter,  like  a 
ripe  peach  for  health  and  beauty — a  lovely  little  Dutch  Hebe  by  a  spinning-wheel — 
a  sweet  Katrina  Van  Tassel— but  whither  does  my  fancy  lead.  The  stately  burgo- 
master's pipe  is  long  since  broken,  and  himself  laid  with  his  fathers ;  Katrina's  laughing 
eyes  no  more  send  a  cheerful  thought  to  the  heart  of  the  chance  traveller  ;  and  that 
venerable  mansion  in  the  picture — that  sad  remembrancer  of  a  thousand  pleasing 
scenes  of  love  and  quiet  is  (bones  of  the  Vanderlyns  and  Vanderdams  lie  quiet  while 
I  write  my  history)  a  grocery  store,  where  sugar,  and  ham,  and  molasses,  and 
onions — things  which  doubtless  would  have  made  the  hair  of  its  first  occupants  stand 
on  end — are  retailed  "  cheap  for  cash." 

The  first  engraving  given  in  this  number  represents  a  building  (recently  taken 


41 


down)  which  stood  on  the  east  side  of  Broad  street,  No.  41.    It  was  one  hundred  and 
thirty-two  years  old,  and  was  one  of  the  few  which  escaped  the  memorable  conflagra 
Hon  of  1776. 

• 

In  the  18th  plate  we  have  the  extensive  hotel  of  Mr.  Holt,  an  edifice  very  carefully 
constructed,  and  promising  to  be  both  useful  and  ornsunental  to  the  city.  It  stands  on 
the  corner  of  Fulton  and  Pearl  streets.  The  fronton  Fulton  street  is  100  feet,  on 
Pearl  street  76  feet  6  inches,  on  Water  street  85  feet  6  inches.  It  is  6  stories 
high,  beside  the  basement.  The  height  of  the  main  building  to  the  top  of  the  cornice,  is 
75  feet ;  to  the  top  of  the  promenade  85  feet ;  from  the  side  walk  to  the  top  of  the 
dome  125  feet.  It  contains  a  dining  hall  100  feet  in  length,  two  side  dining  rooms 
45  feet  each,  together  with  25  parlours,  making  in  all  165  rooms.  One  thousand  people 
can  be  accommodated  with  dinner  at  once,  and  300  with  lodgings  at  night.  The  num- 
ber of  windows  in  the  building  is  450.  Appertaining  to  the  establishment  is  a  well,  bored 
370  feet  yielding,  a  constant  supply  of  pure  rock  water,  which  by  means  of  a  steam 
engine  is  conveyed  to  every  part  of  the  building.  Large  cisterns  are  also  placed  in  the 
garrets,  to  which  hose  are  attached,  for  the  purpose  of  conveying  water  freely  and  con- 
stantly— a  safe  guard  against  fire,  invaluable  and  necessary  in  so  extensive  a  building. 

Mr.  Holt  has  long  been  known  as  a  caterer  for  the  palates  of  a  large  number  of 
citizens.  In  the  present  expensive  establishment,  we  learn  that  it  is  his  intention  to 
improve  upon  all  his  previous  arrangements. 





Ni  w-Yorlt.  lWuhed   by-  Peabody  (i  Co.    London. 0."Rk:]i    "SalS  lV'd.-l .ion  Square. 


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Non-York.  Published   M.itcIi  1832.  Vn-  Ppnbn.1v  *  rv,.  \.m,Ann  OR,A  Wn19.  l^n-l.-um  <;,.,, =>tp 


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